Blood
by Lulubird
Summary: In 'Snow' Enobaria Reyes survived her family and the Hunger Games, but in 'Blood' she will be faced with a whole new world of danger. She may have learned to protect herself against the merciless world, but can she protect the one person who means everything to her, especially when they don't seem to want her protection anymore. Part two of Snow, Blood and Steel.
1. Chapter 1

**"Do not pity the dead...Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."**

**- Albus Dumbledore**

* * *

The house looked just the same. It was still cold, and unfriendly, and crumbling. But stepping through the front door now felt totally different. At first I thought perhaps it was me, maybe I'd miraculously changed in the Arena. But then I realised that it was the emptiness. The house was empty in a way it never had been before; a good way. Instead of the abandoned atmosphere that told me someone should be here and wasn't, constantly reminding me of how little my parents actually cared, the house simply felt vacant. It told me that they were definitely gone, and that brought me unimaginable comfort.

They'd offered me a house in Victor's Village and looked shocked when I'd turned them down. I don't think a new Victor had ever turned down one of the nice, solid, safe houses. They sat in little clusters around manicured woodlands and safely within a compound fence, to keep out the wild things- animals and people alike.

The thought of moving into one of them had made me shudder. I'd walked through the village before and hated the way everything looked too perfect. Children were running around laughing and women stood in their doorways watching their neighbours pass with a keen eye. It couldn't be further from the desolate, wild world that I had grown up in. There would have been no privacy in the Village, no space, no silence. Nowhere for Clove and I to hide away from the prying eyes of our town, the eyes that always felt so judgemental and pitying at the same time. There would be no escape for us there. And I desperately wanted to pretend that with my return nothing of my parents had ever existed. There had not been years of loneliness, pain, and neglect. There had not been fear. There had not been blood pooling across the kitchen floor as I held the knife over his body.

When I walked into the bedroom that my parents used to share I felt nothing. It was the first time in over 10 years that I had walked into this room, and there was no sign that they'd ever existed. The faded blue quilt folded on the bed didn't remind me of them. There were no pictures on the dresser or personal objects scattered around. My father had barely lived here before I had killed him two years ago. He'd stormed in, occasionally eaten in the kitchen, shouted a bit, sometimes struck out at me if I got in the way, and then stormed out again leaving the house in deathly silence. I still didn't know where he used to go to. In contrast my mother had practically lived in this room. Yet there was nothing in the greying walls or the weak sunlight filtering through the window to reveal that she had spent almost all of the 17 years of my life in this room, sitting in the dark and crying. I knew she cried.

I stared at the bed and tried to imagine this room as mine now. There was no point Clove and I continuing to both sleep in the only other bedroom of our house, a pokey little room we'd both shared since she was a baby. This room was perfectly adequate. It was mine now, not my parents.

"En?" I turned from the bed and saw her standing in the doorway, looking at me hesitantly. She'd seemed almost nervous of me since I'd returned. I'd barely gotten the chance to talk to her since my train had rolled into the station three days ago and since then I'd been staying in the Justice Building as the town celebrated my victory. This was the first night that I had escaped from them all and I'd come home. I wondered what it was that made her nervous of me. Knowing Clove and her bloodthirstiness I doubted it was what she'd seen me do during the Games. She would have loved every kill I made. Maybe I looked different? There was a new force, tugging me down. It had nothing to do with the teenagers, children practically, that I had killed. It came from the conversation I had had with President Snow on the night of my victory party. It came from the threat against the nine year old standing in front of me now, the threat he had whispered in my ear like a caress but which had made my skin feel like ice.

I lifted my eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. I was fine. "Yeah, Clo?"

She walked into the room, looking around her as if she was worried mines were about to go off. It suddenly struck me that this may well be the first time she had ever walked into our parents' room. Perhaps even the first time she had seen daylight peeking through the open curtains. She swallowed as her eyes roamed the plainness of the room and I knew she was feeling the same twinge of anger and hurt that I had had only moments ago. Then her eyes rested on me and I saw her shoulders relax slightly. "I'm glad you're home," she said.

I reached out an arm and she shuffled over to me, pressing into my side. We looked at the bed in silence for a moment. Without even realising it my fingers were playing absently with the tendrils of her pony tail. Normally she would never have let me do something so affectionate, and I wouldn't have been the sort to do it, but if she noticed she didn't stop me. "I'm glad I'm home too," I replied truthfully. Home had nothing to do with the house.

* * *

I couldn't sleep. There was a crack in the curtains that no matter how I adjusted them always seemed to let moonlight into the room. It lit up the grey walls more brilliantly than I would have thought possible. The bed was cold and too big. I shifted restlessly a million times but no matter how I lay I was always cold. I hated being cold. I curled up on my side, just as I had in the Arena, and tried to imagine warm sunlight on my skin. Even though this was nowhere near the icy temperatures of my frozen Arena it still felt completely debilitating. I shivered and stared at the grey walls and tried not to think about the cold and the memories that came with it.

At one point I must have drifted into a fitful sleep because I found myself looking at Raziel, the boy from District 12 who had saved me from a blizzard, and then the Career pack, and who I then had left to be tortured to death by Allure and Luxor, the tributes from District 1. I felt no guilt about his death, I didn't feel guilt about any of them, but his eyes inspired an inexplicable sadness in me. I had never understood why he had saved me and by the time that I realised it wasn't a trick it had been too late to ask him. He sat in the room now, sitting on the dusty floorboards, and watching me. I stared back at him, wondering if he would answer me if I asked the question now. Something about his pale, almost translucent skin told me he wouldn't. I was dreaming, and dreams for me were never about pleasure or absolution. Soon enough the blood began to seep through the white shirt he wore and my dream turned into the nightmare I had been expecting. It was strange that in waking blood never frightened me. In fact it invoked the opposite reaction. I loved blood, and pain, and killing. But when I closed my eyes my mind seemed to want to remind me of what it _should_ feel like. In my dreams the sight of someone bleeding slowly to death gave me the pain and fear that it would have if I hadn't been wrong. Maybe my unconscious mind was a better person than my conscious one.

"I'm sorry," I whispered out to him, but he just stared back at me with accusing eyes as the blood continued to flow, dripping onto the floor around him with a rhythmic _drip, drip, drip _that echoed too loudly in the silent house.

I was started awake by movement behind me and I flew into a sitting potion, all my muscles tensed and ready to defend myself. Clove stared at me with huge eyes in the darkness, frozen by the side of the bed. My heartbeat slowed at the sight of her and I felt my shoulders relax, dropping back onto the pillow. "You startled me," I murmured. She shrugged an apology and continued with her mission of climbing into the bed. I could have stopped her, told her to go back to her own, but the second she wriggled under the covers next to me warmth flooded through my body again. It was so familiar to have her warm little body pressed against mine. I found her hand in the tangle of sheets and gave it a quick, grateful squeeze. She could no doubt feel how cold I was, my body still shivering, but she didn't complain as she tucked herself into my side. I could feel her warm breath fluttering against the skin of my shoulder. She'd already closed her eyes, without saying a single word, and after a few moments I closed mine too, enveloping myself in the darkness.

* * *

It was Lupa's black eyes that greeted me this time, the tribute from District 4 who I had feared more than anyone else in the Arena. She didn't gaze at me with silent reproach like Raziel had, but glared viciously as she clawed at me, trying to roll me off her. We snarled and hissed at each other as we fought for our lives and unlike in reality she won. She pinned me beneath her and I lookup up into her dark eyes. There was a cold smirk playing around her lips as she tilted her head to the side, surveying me. "Still as weak as ever," she snarled, but when she spoke it was with my mother's voice. I screamed in frustration and tried to strike out at her, forgetting in my anger all the skills I had learnt through more than 5 years of training. She met my strike with a block and gripped my wrist hard, digging her fingernails into the skin till I saw blood trickling down my arm from her fingers like some twisted bracelet. "You'll never be strong enough," she taunted again and twisted my arm back until I heard a sharp snap and felt searing pain rip through my body. I cried out and kicked out at her desperately, the powerlessness of my dream hurting more than my snapping bones.

Suddenly there was a weight on my chest and I clearly felt hands pressing into my shoulders, even though both Lupa's were gripped to my wrists. I shook my head in confusion and suddenly she released me. I yelped and rolled over, trying to pin her beneath me, my hands searching the ground next to me for a rock to smash against her head. My hands pressed against her throat.

"Ena stop! It's me!" I blinked and realised that Clove was looking up at me, her eyes wide and her hands scrabbling at her throat where my own hands were clawed around her neck. As if her skin burned, my hands flew away from her and I threw myself off her smaller body, rolling onto the other side of the bed. I ran a shaking hand over my eyes as my heart thudded painfully in my chest.

"Clove! I'm sorry, are you alright?" I asked breathlessly, feeling awful. She didn't answer me at first and I sat up in panic, looking across at her. Sensing my eyes on her she nodded silently and sat up too, pushing the sheets off her. If I hadn't known her so well I'd have thought she wasn't at all phased by the fact that I just tried to kill her. But I knew that my hands around her throat would have reminded her of our father, and that her silence and stony expression were just her way of defending herself. Sometimes I didn't know which she was more scared of, her fears or showing that she had them.

She turned to face me. 'You alright, Ena?" she asked seriously, turning the question back on me. She tilted her head to the side, her dark hair falling over one shoulder, and studied me quizzically. Her lack of response to my attack just made me feel guiltier and I nodded dismissively, pulling on my own mask of strength. We were as bad as each other but we were never going to change. I pulled myself from the tangled blankets and slid off the bed, standing awkwardly next to it.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked, ignoring what had just happened. "Breakfast?"

I followed her eyes as she glanced at the window and saw with surprise that dusky light was streaming into the room. Clove struggled out of the sheets too and sat cross legged in the middle of the bed. "You do know it's evening right?" she asked.

I blinked in confusion at the window. Never in my life had I slept the entire day. Oddly I didn't feel at all rested. My body still ached as if I hadn't slept in days and my mind was taking far too long to process things. Eventually I looked back at Clove who was watching me intently. "I'll make some dinner then," I muttered, running a hand through my hair and finding two days worth of knots and tangles.

After a pause Clove shrugged, her intent expression gone. "Okay," she said simply, clambering off the bed. She managed to get her foot tangled in the sheets and landed on the floor with a loud thump. No matter how fast and skilled she was sometimes she still had that colt-like clumsiness that only preteens seemed to muster.

As she clambered back to her feet and headed towards the door I called out to her. She paused and looked back at me, a flicker of something like hope on her face. I looked down at the faded, blue quilt. "You shouldn't come into my bed. You're not a kid anymore, you need to sleep on your own."

She kept her eyes on me for a minute and then turned and walked from the room without saying anything. I continued to stare at the quilt, knowing that it had to be done, but not at all looking forward to endless nights of shivering alone.

* * *

**A/N: Hello all. This is the sequel to what was previously known as Blood, Snow and Steel. It has since been renamed Snow. If you have not read the first part and would like to, it can be found here: /s/8536016/1/**

**Like the first part, this will have 20-something chapters and will be reliably updated, as it has already been finished. **

**Welcome all new readers and welcome back all those from Part 1.**

**I really appreciate reviews as they help me improve not only the story but my writing in whole, so I'd love you if you could leave a review for me at the end of chapters.**

**I hope you enjoy the story that is to come.**

**-Lu**


	2. Chapter 2

Within three days I was seeking refuge in the Training Centre. As I walked the familiar path through town to where the Centre sat on the edge of the forest I was acutely aware of the people around me. I was used to slipping through unnoticed save for perhaps a few whispers which would ignore. Now it seemed the entire attention of the District was upon me. Yet still no one greeted me or ever met my eyes. As I walked through the crowds in the main square people hushed as I approached and stepped to the side, glancing away. I couldn't tell if they were scared of me or simply trying to show respect. I couldn't remember what it was like with other Victors. The last one we'd had was Tass, five years ago, and that had been _different_ circumstances. So as I watched the whole town avoid me I didn't know whether that was normal or not.

I hated it. Invisibility I could handle, I hated this silent attention. It was almost as bad as the boisterous and smothering attention of the Capitol people. I'd never been so grateful to see the familiar outlining of the Centre ahead of me and I slipped through the imposing front doors and treaded the familiar path to the smaller training rooms. Everyone was in the midst of sparring and training and they didn't notice me as I slipped around the edge of the central room. I could almost feel the ability to breathe coming back to my body as I smelt the musty, sweaty scent of the Centre, and let my eyes drift over students in our fitted black training gear going through patterns of fighting that were second nature to me. My body twitched, restless to be fighting again.

On the far side of the room I spotted the small, but intimidating figure of Aemilia. She was shouting something cross between abuse and encouragement at two students as they fought each other with practice swords. I could tell that they were as much faltering because of her screaming presence next to them as anything their opponent did. I had no desire to encounter Aemilia- who I'm sure hadn't suddenly decided to like me because of my new status as Victor. In fact I'm sure she had been silently praying for my death the entire time I was in the Arena. The fact that I had joined my mother on the list of Victors, a list which Aemilia herself had been unable to join thanks to my mother, was not going to win me any points. So I disappeared through the small black door that led to the smaller training rooms before she could spot me.

The corridor stretched away before me, lined with doors to the knife throwing rooms, and I suddenly remembered the first time I had stepped through these doors. The day that Domitius had pulled me from Aemilia's group, with only my name to identify me as having potential talent at his special weapon- knives. I let out a slow breath and thought about all the thousands of times I had walked this corridor since that day five years ago.

I let my feet carry me towards the small, unobtrusive room that I knew was Domitius' office. It was empty as I let myself in. I had only been in this room once before, the day after my father had di-been killed, but I remembered the layout of the office clearly. I turned expectantly towards the wall that I knew held photographs of Domitius' Victors. My eyes saw with dismay my own photograph next to one of Tass. We couldn't have looked more different.

Before I'd been to the Capitol I had never once had my photograph taken, and I'd never seen myself apart from in the mirror. It was a strange sensation to be looking at myself there now and I wasn't sure I liked it. Next to Tass, who was giving that gentle, natural smile she had that managed to reach her eyes too, and whose beautiful golden hair was pulled neatly over her shoulders, I was like a shadow. The dark to her light. I didn't smile, and from memory when the photograph had been taken I'd been trying to decide how to kill the photographer.

"You're not supposed to sneak in here," said Domitius' voice from behind me and I turned to see him standing in the doorway surveying me critically. I hadn't heard the door open and I had no idea how long he had been standing there. For a big man he could move with surprising stealth. Or perhaps it wasn't surprising, he had been a Victor too once after all.

"There's a lot of things I'm not supposed to do," I retorted with far less civility than I would have two weeks ago. Without being asked I threw myself into one of the chairs and looked up at him expectantly. He sighed in frustration and moved to the other side of the desk, taking a seat and looking at me across the pile of papers and tables and weapons on the surface. It still seemed strange to me that Domitius had an office, but I knew that the papers were all covered in statistics and results of training fights and students, comparing and analysing who would make the best tribute. I sat up a little straighter and looked him in the eye. "I want to come back to training." There was no point beating about the bush.

He sighed like he had expected those words from me. 'You can't, you know that."

I growled in annoyance and sat forwards on my seat, leaning towards him. "Domitius I'm going out of my mind. I need to train. Let me be an assistant trainer or something, like Junia!"

My mind flew to the girl I had trained with all through my time here. I hadn't spoken to her since I'd returned and for that I was glad. We had both grown up with the Career mentality of death and sacrifice but I wasn't sure if that would extend to the moment I had left Manius to die alone in the Arena. Even if my heartless mind couldn't comprehend the love between them I couldn't deny its existence and I knew she would have been devastated when he died. I wasn't eager to find out whether she blamed me or not.

Clove had been the one to tell me that Junia had taken up an assistant trainer position at the Centre. She'd heard it from Junia's little brother who she went to junior training with. It didn't surprise me. After Manius and I, Junia had been the best student and because she was a year older than me she had been eighteen at these games. No student could stay at the Centre after eighteen.

I glared at Domitius, already knowing that his answer was going to be no, but daring him to say it. He sighed and ran a hand over his head. He looked wearily at me and for the briefest moment I felt a little guilty. "You look terrible," was all he said and my guilt vanished as I bristled indignantly. "Instead of training why don't you try this thing called sleep? I've heard you didn't get much in the Arena."

I pressed my lips together angrily and leant back in my chair, refusing to acknowledge that I had barely been getting any sleep despite somehow managing to wake up shockingly late almost every day. Every night I saw Raziel, or Lupa, Allure, Manius, Luxor, my mother, my father, Clove. Last night for the first time I had seen Tacita and that dream had shaken me more than most. I didn't understand why I was seeing them. They had warned me in the Capitol about nightmares and flashbacks and guilt, but I didn't feel guilt. It was the Hunger Games. I was a Career tribute trained to kill. People died. There was no guilt there and yet every night I repeatedly felt sick as they looked at me so accusingly. I hated the nights that I saw my mother and father. They were often more memories than nightmares and I always woke gasping for air.

Last night after one of these dreams I'd climbed from the bed, my stomach turning at the cold floor beneath my feet, and silently climbed the stairs to my old bedroom. I had to check that Clove was still there, still alright. She hadn't woken as I'd eased the door open and watched her for a few minutes, counting her breaths. She calmed the pounding of my heart and the prickling heat of panic over my skin, and I'd had to force myself to walk slowly down the stairs again instead of walking over to my old bed and climbing in beside her. Except for my nights in the Arena this was the first time in almost nine years that I had slept alone.

I looked darkly back at Domitius and lifted my chin in defiance. He looked resigned, clearly anticipating my attitude. "You can't be a trainer, Enobaria," he said, unusually using my name instead of the nickname of Rabbit which Tass had given me years ago.

"They think I'm unstable, don't they?" I asked bitterly. They loved the way I had killed in the Arena but perhaps I was just a little too crazy and bloodthirsty to be training the children of District 2. I thought of how no one would meet my eyes as I walked across town. Perhaps I was just a little too dangerous.

"No," he said simply and I met his eyes again. There was a sharp edge to his voice like there was something he wasn't telling me. He read the suspicion in my expression and looked away. "The Capitol likes their newest Victors to be...available." He cleared his throat and picked up some papers from the desk, scanning them. Without looking back at me he rose to his feet, tucking the papers into a folder and moving around the desk. I sat stonily and waited for him to say something more, anything. I don't know what I had expected coming here, support maybe? Advice? Sympathy? No, never sympathy. But I'd been desperate for an answer. If I stayed at home with nothing to do I was going to go...who was I kidding? I was already crazy.

The door swung shut behind him and I stared glumly at the wall behind the desk. I barely even had the energy to be angry at him now, though I wanted to be.

After what felt like an age sitting there staring at the wall I rose to my feet as well and walked from the little office, not looking at the photos as I passed.

Out in the corridor it was cold and deserted and I shrugged my jacket closer around me, grumbling to myself. I wanted so badly to detour by one of the training room and walk to the wrack of knives, pick out my favourites, and begin throwing. But I wasn't a student here anymore and no matter how angry I was at Domitius I still respected him enough to not disobey him. I knew he could be just as formidable as my father, if he wanted to be.

I was pulled from my dark thoughts by a step behind me, following by a snarl. Reflexively I spun around, bringing my arms up ready for an attack. Someone shoved me against the wall and I struck out, feeling my arm connect with bone.

"You going to kill me, Reyes?" spat a familiar voice and I stopped fighting, looking up and meeting Junia's eyes. She was glaring at me with pure hatred and it seemed like my earlier question was going to be answered. She did blame me. She was looking at me as if she wanted to rip me apart. She leant into my face menacingly and I steeled myself, refusing to flinch. I didn't want to attack her either though, I could tell from the burning in her eyes that that was what she wanted. "You going to kill me like you did Manius?" she hissed. I didn't bother to point out that the words were untrue. I'd abandoned him to die, not killed him. I doubt Junia saw the difference. Logic didn't matter to her, she was grieving. It didn't matter that only one of us could have survived. It didn't matter that Junia and I had trained side by side for the very killing she now hated me for. I stared back at her, refusing to acknowledge any of it. There was nothing I could say anyway, nothing that would make her feel better or change what had happened.

My silence seemed to infuriate her more and she slammed a fist against the wall next to my head. "Answer me!" she screamed manically. There was raw pain in her voice. "Tell me how you watched him die! Tell me!" I shook my head mutely and she screamed in anger, the noise slicing through me painfully. Then she was suddenly eerily calm, leaning up against me her face inches from mine.

"You are _nothing,_ Enobaria," she said in a pained whisper. "He was strong and kind and he was _mine_. You're no ones and you're nothing. I wish you were dead." Spitting the last words out at me contemptuously she pulled away and turned her back on me, not giving me another look as she vanished down the corridor. Suddenly pulling air into my lungs was painful and difficult and I closed my eyes, bringing my hands to my face to hide myself. I wanted to scream with frustration but I didn't even have the energy to breathe anymore.

* * *

Two weeks later, two weeks of wandering aimlessly through the house and the woods surrounding, and I received my first official invite to the Capitol. I came home from a hard run through the woods one evening and Clove was sitting on the kitchen table, reading something.

I had taken to sending myself on hours long, punishing jogs through the woods every day, partly to punish myself for not having any training to do and partly because it simply killed several hours of the day. I collapsed through the front door, out of breath and bedraggled from a light rain that had begun to fall, and looked into the kitchen to see Clove sitting cross legged on top of the kitchen table regarding me with interest.

"Not...one...word," I panted as I dragged myself into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair. I could read the teasing comment she had been about to say on her face and I didn't need to hear it. I had been sprinting almost flat out for the past hour, jumping over the fallen logs and scaling a rock wall when I had to. Every muscle in my body felt like it was protesting but it felt good. Although I barely had the energy to lift my head to look at her it felt good to be exhausted. It reminded me of what it used to be like, back when I was in control.

Silently she placed the piece of paper she had been reading before me, and rested her chin in her hands, watching me expectantly.

Running the back of my hand across my forehead I looked at the paper, unsure what she was trying to show me. "What is it?" I asked, reaching out to pull it closer. She rolled her eyes and pointed to her lips, reminding me I'd forbidden her from speaking. I shot her a bitter look. "Right, _now_ you listen to what I tell you."

She gave me a smug smile but still didn't say anything. Muttering things under my breath that I hoped she couldn't hear, I picked up the piece of paper and tried to focus on the words. It was heavy, almost like thick card, and had an ornate border of black roses decorating the edge. Instantly I knew it was from the Capitol and my heart sunk. Aware that Clove was watching me closely I maintained my blank expression as I read.

_Dear Ms. Reyes,_

_The President of Panem requests you presence in the Capitol beginning on the Tuesday of next week. The duration of your visit is yet to be determined. Please arrive in the Capitol by no later than sunset on Monday. Your accommodation and necessities will be organised by the Capitol._

_We hope this finds you well,_

_Sincerely,_

_Fiorelli Florenti, Department of Ceremonies_

The painfully polite language did little to ease my concern. If anything it only increased it. There was nothing in the invitation about why I was so urgently requested at the Capitol.

"They probably want to do more interviews and things, right?" Clove asked, almost answering my silent wonderings. I nodded vaguely, reading the letter through again. The President requested my presence. That didn't sound good.

Knowing that I had no choice in the matter though, I carefully placed the paper back down on the table and looked at Clove. "I'll have to go for a while," I said. "You'll be fine on your own." It wasn't a question and she didn't reply. We both knew she could look after herself without me here. We'd both been looking after ourselves for years now, and she'd had to survive without me while I was in the Arena. Besides, she had as little choice in the matter as I did. I could hardly take her with me, although the idea as it fluttered into my head was mildly appealing. Having Clove with me would probably make the Capitol almost bearable. This time I wouldn't have Domitius there to help me understand the madness that was the city and its inhabitants. Clove picked up the paper and absently began to tear the edges.

There wasn't much more to discuss so I climbed from my chair, feeling my legs protesting the movement again, and walked to the doorway. "Oh, and don't sit on the table," I called over my shoulder at her, suddenly realising I should probably have told her that before. I heard a muttered string of curses that definitely weren't soft enough for me to miss and shook my head. I was sure I'd never been that difficult at her age, had I? As I climbed the stairs there was a loud thump that told me she'd either fallen off the table or kicked over a chair. I was too tired to try and figure out which one it was.


	3. Chapter 3

"Who are you?" I demanded rudely, walking into the apartment. A petite girl with striking magenta hair stood in the middle of the room. She was young, about my own age, and as I surveyed her I almost felt a bit sorry for her. I wondered what she had done to get stuck with me. Despite looking nervous she gave me a small smile that seemed genuine.

"I'm Raven Isebeline," she replied openly. "I'm here to help you adjust to the Capitol."

I sniffed contemptuously and stalked passed her, surveying the apartment critically. Pretending to inspect the view out the enormous window I secretly studied her in the reflection. She was almost exactly my height and build, though somehow I doubted her slimness came from years of relentless training like mine. I'd never seen anyone with hair the deep magenta of hers before, and unlike everyone else in this place it actually looked good on her. The striking colour complemented her smooth, olive skin and surprisingly soft, black eyes. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that apart from her hair colour, she carried no other signs of being a Capitolan. Her features looked young and fresh, free from the burden of makeup and plastic surgery, and she wore only a simple black fitted dress with long sleeves. The only jewellery she wore were a pair of dainty pearls in her ears which, as I watched, she fiddled with nervously. To people from the Capitol she probably looked as good as naked, but even those tiny pearls caught my attention as being far more extravagant than anything I'd seen growing up. When I turned back to her I gave a cool smile and was rewarded with a nervous flutter of her eyes as she glanced away. She might be young but she was scared of me, so she couldn't be all bad.

"So what does this adjustment involve?" I asked as I moved forward, watching her eyes widen as I bore down upon her then brushed past roughly as I headed to the bedroom. My brief inspection of the apartment had shown me several rooms not that different to the District 2 Suite I'd stayed in prior to my Games. It was simply smaller. One bedroom stretched off the main room and a bathroom from that. A section of the main room marked off by sleek black benches seemed to me to be the nearest thing to a kitchen, but without further inspection I couldn't identify any appliances or stoves...not even a sink. Knowing the Capitol it would be there, cleverly disguised as something completely unnecessary. To my relief that seemed to be all there was of the apartment. I had been slightly apprehensive of what being a Victor would actually mean but although this was still completely foreign to me, I found that it was easier to get used to than before. Maybe it would get easier each time. Raven followed me through the tall doorway into the bedroom and hovered there as I marched to my bag. I didn't actually need anything but I felt far more in control if she was scurrying after me.

"Well," she began, wringing her hands restlessly. "I'll help you know where to go and what to do, and make sure you get everywhere on time and..." she trailed off, seeming unsure of the next part of her sentence. I thought of how President Snow had looked at me the night of my Victor's party and knew what the rest of her words had been going to be. I turned to her, abandoning my useless rummaging.

"You're here to keep me out of trouble." She nodded glumly at the tone of amusement in my voice. It _was_ amusing. This little girl, no more than my own seventeen years surely, couldn't possibly hope to stand up to me, could she? What were the Capitol people thinking, placing a slip of a thing with one of the fiercest Victors? Again I felt a twinge of pity for her. "What on earth did you do to get landed with that job?" My tone was kinder than before, even though I hadn't necessarily intended it to be, and she seemed to pick up on this, her head flying up and her eyes meeting mine. She gave another small smile of appreciation and shrugged.

"Perhaps all the others were too scared." It took me a moment to realise that she was in fact joking with me, and I started, shocked that she had the courage, despite the way she was still playing with her pearls. The best thing was that perhaps there was actually some truth to her words. I smiled, liking the idea that the old phonies of the Capitol had been too intimidated to deal every day with a seventeen year old girl.

"Perhaps..." I said, swishing passed her in the doorway again and marching back into the main room. I stood in the middle of the vast, barren space and realised that I actually had no idea what to do. At home I would have been training, hiking, foraging in the woods, attempting to cook or clean our decrepit old house, but here I doubted I could do any of those things. Perhaps if I could get my hands on some knives they would let me practice. Raven seemed to sense my hesitation and for the first time seemed to take control. She strode towards me and swung the front door open with a new air of assurance.

"First stop, your prep team."

Unable to help myself I groaned, seeing her give a grin at the sound. Subconsciously I trailed my fingers through my hair, which possibly hadn't been brushed in several days. My fingers snagged on knots so bad I just knew they were going to have to cut them out. I had no desire to return to the torture that was my prep team but my experience from after my victory told me that simply because I had walked out of the Arena, didn't mean the Capitol would let me out without a severe treatment first. I could refuse to go, but they would probably just come here and tie me down while they did whatever it was they wanted. I threw another look around the apartment, suddenly thinking that its solitary spaces possibly didn't look so bad after all, and then reluctantly followed Raven out of the building.

* * *

Raven, it seemed, was tasked with staying by my side almost every moment of my time in the Capitol. She led me from building to building, always hovering nearby while I was forced to do whatever it was the Capitol people wanted from me. I hadn't known what to expect but I couldn't say the experience was a pleasant surprise. If I had thought the interview after my victory was bad then the dozens that followed were worse, mostly because the interviewers were far more tactless than even Caesar had been, and because I didn't have Domitius' familiar face to look to in the audience when my heartbeat began to pick up in panic. Everywhere I went people kept touching me, and several times I heard startled yelps as I lashed out, almost absent-mindedly striking out at the fingertips that landed on my skin.

When I returned to my apartment on the evening of the first day I was already deathly exhausted and desperate to return home. How was it that I could hike through the wilderness from sunrise to sunset without tiring, and yet a day of scowling at the crowds around me and pulling myself from reaching hands left me almost unable to stand? To my annoyance Raven followed me into the apartment, ignoring the way I tried to shut the door in her face. She was persistent, I'd give her that.

"You have a Ball tomorrow evening-" she said mechanically and I turned to see her reading to me from a small tablet in her hand. My exhaustion made any patience I had set aside for Raven disappear and I stormed towards her, pushing her roughly towards the door. She almost dropped the object in her hand in surprise as I dug my fingers into her arm and bared my teeth. I saw fear flicker in her wide eyes and it gave me the strength I had needed all day.

Playfully I snapped out at her as I shoved her through the door, slamming it shut in her face. Suddenly on my own for the first time that day I exhaled slowly and leant my back against the door, sliding down onto my knees. The beautiful silence pressed in against me and I closed my eyes, counting twenty slow heartbeats before dragging myself back to my feet and making my way to the bedroom. The wall length glass window from the main room extended in here and I collapsed onto the edge of the bed and gazed out over the Capitol landscape before me. A million different coloured lights glittered in the sea of black and on the horizon a pale moon was beginning to rise.

I wasn't sure how long I could do this; the talking, the questions, the touching, the clothes. I was hardly left alone all day and the constant blur of colours and patterns hurt my head. I pressed my fingertips to my temple and willed the aching away, trying to remember why I was here. Clove. It all came down to her, didn't it? Snow's words still slithered into my head at the slightest questioning of what I was doing and, every time, I knew within a second that I would do it over and over again, no matter how much I hated it, as long as his threat hung over her head. The Capitol had made me their property and there was nothing I could do about it.

* * *

A small cough pulled me from a dream of Raziel's silent accusations and I sat bolt upright, frantically looking around at the unfamiliar room. It took me a few moments to place the enormous glass wall and the pale blue velvet cover of the bed beneath me. It took me even longer to place the hesitant black eyes that were looking at me.

"Good morning," Raven remarked, taking a step back that told me she wasn't sure what my reaction would be to being woken. I blinked blearily at her, my confusion making my reflexes slow, and then looked around. I was still wearing the clothes I had been in last night and realised from my position that I must have fallen asleep where I sat on the bed. I didn't remember falling asleep but the sunlight streaming through the glass before me told me I must have. My hand lifted to my head as the aching from last night returned.

"What time is it?" I asked Raven, my voice dry and raspy.

She quickly looked at something on her wrist and then back to me, seeming unwilling to take her eyes from me for too long. Maybe after my little display last night she thought that I was so unstable I would unexpectedly lash out at her at any point. If I had had more energy I would have, just to make sure her fear of me stayed firmly in place, but I just climbed wearily to my feet.

"It's almost eight," she replied, stepping backwards with every step I took forwards. To her chest she clutched the sleek black tablet I had seen her using last night, and she clung to it as if it was a lifeline. "You- you need to be at the Remake Centre in fifteen minutes," she fluttered. I ignored her and moved to the kitchen, beginning a hunt for a glass or a cup. After studying the black surfaces for a moment I decided to try touching the nearest cabinet next to me, not really expecting it to open. Nothing happened. I frowned at the annoying kitchen and went to reach for another, stopping when Raven moved up next to me, pressing neatly on one corner causing a hidden door to pop open. Without thanking her I pulled a cup from the shelf and turned, looking for a source of water. "That surface over there is a sink," said a soft voice in my ear and once again I ignored her, striding across the space and following her prompt to find sparkling, chilled water flood from a hidden tap. I drank two cups full before turning back to her.

"Why do I need to go to the Remake Centre?" I asked. "I was there yesterday."

Her eyes fluttered to the tablet again but I suspected it was purely reflexive. Maybe that tablet was for her what my knives were for me. Despite myself I found being in Raven's presence easier than most of the other Capitolians. Probably if she had appeared in District 2, I would have found her unbearable, but compared to the chaos of the rest of the people here she was relatively pleasant. Today she wore a flawless cream dress that reached to just above her knees and clung to her figure in a way that was beautiful without being too revealing. Just like all the women of the Capitol she wore tall heels, and as always I found myself gazing at them, wondering how they could possibly function in them every day. I had worn them twice- once for my interview and one for my Victory party- and both times I had found them completely unbearable.

She cleared her throat nervously again and I lifted my eyes from her shoes to see her playing with her earrings again. They were exactly the same simple pearls she had word yesterday. "The President wanted to meet you at the Remake Centre," she replied, clearly unsure of her own words.

I suppressed a shudder at the mention of the man who had commanded me here. I had no desire to see him again so soon and I couldn't comprehend why he would want to see me. A moment of panic fluttered in my heart as I wondered if I had done something to warrant his anger. Would he take it out on Clove? Quickly I ran through my previous day in the Capitol, desperately trying to think of anything that could require he meet with me. Raven seemed to share my reluctance to see the President because when I focused on her again she seemed even more nervous. I glanced at her tablet. "Did he...did he say why?" I enquired, trying to sound indifferent. She shook her head and then glanced pointedly at her wrist, which I supposed meant we were already going to be late.

I dropped my cup onto the spotless counter with a loud clunk, enjoying the way water splashed onto the floor and how it made Raven jump slightly, and nodded. "Okay."

* * *

I was more nervous than I thought I would be as we walked through the sliding silver doors to the Remake Centre. I knew that the man who had made my skin crawl like no other could, was probably waiting for me within these walls and I had no idea what he was going to say. My dread was that he was going to inform me in that cool voice of his that I had done something terribly wrong, and that Clove was going to pay because of it. For all I knew his men were already in District 2. I pushed that thought aside as I followed Raven into a long glass corridor that led to formal looking offices. Thinking thoughts like that was only going to send me insane. I glanced to my left and saw the wall of glass sealed out a structured garden. Despite its painful neatness it was the closest thing to nature I'd seen since arriving in the Capitol and I longed to escape into it. How cruel to build walls of glass so you could see what was on the other side but were never able to reach it. As I followed Raven through a door, blocking the garden from sight, I thought that it must be something of President Snow's design. He loved illusions of freedom.

He was standing by a small bookcase as we entered the room, and turned to regard me with cool eyes. I held his gaze, determined to face whatever it was head on. After a moment his eyes moved to Raven and she dropped her head respectfully.

"You're late," he snapped and I felt her flinch next to me.

"It was my fault," I replied before I knew what I was doing. As he looked back at me I thought how stupid it had been to let those words escape my mouth. Why was I defending Raven? And I hardly wanted to risk angering him towards me anymore.

He regarded me sternly for a few moments and then placed what he had been holding back onto the opaque class shelf of the bookcase. His fingers pulled away and I saw to my horror that he had been holding a skull. It looked real, not plastic, and it was far too small to be an adult's. I hid my shudder by flicking my hair out of my eyes with a haughty shrug and waited for him to say something. He sauntered around the far side of a desk and gracefully took a seat, motioning for me to do the same. I threw a glance at Raven as she backed up towards the door before moving forward and carefully lowering myself into the seat opposite his.

The door didn't open so I guessed Raven was standing invisibly by it, trying not to be seen or heard. She seemed to hold more than the usual respect for her President. All Capitolians appeared to love this man, and owed him the respect that love deserved, but she seemed to have a healthy amount of fear mixed in. I didn't get the chance to ponder this further as the President placed his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers, and regarding me over them.

"Miss Reyes," he said with a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. I didn't respond to his non-question but held his gaze defiantly. Suddenly his whole expression changed and he lost the stern mask. He seemed to soften and I felt myself start with alarm that he could change so dramatically so quickly. He had gone from looking like a murderer observing his latest victim, to the kind and grandfatherly persona I knew the Capitolians loved. The change made me even more wary.

"As you know we very much loved your Victory, my dear," he continued, appearing to ignore my silence. "The Doctors and I were thinking that perhaps you should have a reminder of your victory." He gave me another smile, revealing perfect, even teeth, and motioned with his hand to a piece of paper on the desk before him that I hadn't seen before. I followed his motion and saw with shock a sketch of myself. It was quite a neat sketch, in thin charcoal lines and without smudges. Briefly I wondered why he used a sketch and not a photograph, and then I saw the alteration to the almost spitting image of myself. Two teeth revealed themselves as the figure on the paper bared her teeth, their edges gleaming wickedly. I looked back at him in confusion, which he seemed to anticipate, because he smiled again and placed a hand on the drawing. "I know how you appreciate plain speak, Enobaria," he said. I shuddered at the familiar use of my name by this man who had threatened me so openly last time we spoke. "We would like to alter your appearance slightly, as in this drawing."

I looked back at the picture, my mind processing his words. He wanted to make me into that? It wasn't enough that he could control where I lived and what I did? Now he wanted to change how I looked? Before I could think of the consequences I shook my head. "I can't."

Again, he seemed to anticipate my response because he rose from his chair and moved silently around the desk towards me, leaning on the edge so near to me that the edge of his jacket brushed my hand. I moved it back and tucked it under my other arm. The sickly smell of roses and blood reached me as he moved and I had to resist the urge to turn away.

"We are not in the habit of making requests, Enobaria," he said smoothly. Why did he keep using the term 'we'? Who exactly were these people dictating my life? Or was it simply the President's way of dispersing the blame among a faceless group of Capitolians? I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced down at my hands again. The coldness in his voice had returned and I knew that I did not have a choice in the matter. I could resist, I could protest, but Clove would pay for my pride. Slowly, hating every movement I made, I gave a small, curt nod.

He seemed pleased with my response, clasping his hands together triumphantly and rising into a fully standing position. "Excellent," he declared, already looking over my head. "I've been informed the procedure is quite simple. It can be done this morning and you'll be ready for the ball this very evening." My head flew up at that. Today? I had hoped for time to figure out a way out of this. But before I could say anything more he had placed a hand on my shoulder in a quick touch that was meant to appear affectionate, but I knew was really a reminder, and walked from the room. I stared ahead of me in silent shock as I heard Raven hurriedly open the door for him, scurrying backwards. There was a soft murmur but I couldn't hear the words he said to her, or her reply if there was one.

When I, too, rose to my feet and turned to face her, her face was pale and her expression tense. I imagined I looked somewhat similar and it was slightly comforting to know that I was not alone in my unpleasant experience with the President. "They're waiting for you," she said in a soft voice that shook slightly, motioning me down the corridor. I nodded again and then pulled all my courage and defiance up through my body, straightening my back and lifting my head. President Snow may be able to tell me what to do, but I was damned if any of these Capitol people were going to see me cower before them. I managed to produce a grim smile. "These Doctors don't know what they're in for," I said in a stronger voice than I felt, and saw Raven give me another one of her small smiles.


	4. Chapter 4

As much as I had delighted in the idea of tormenting the poor doctors who had decided along with President Snow that my appearance needed _alteration_, I barely got the opportunity. Only several hours after following Raven into a spotless white room that made me shudder with memory, I was blinking myself awake to the sight of a bare little room. Instantly I sat up, flinging turqoise covers from me and looked around in panic. I had no memory of getting here and the thought terrified me. My hands lifted and began to rub along the goosebumped skin of my bare arms in a nervous gesture that my father used to inspire. The room had no windows and only one door, which was closed, and apart from the narrow bed upon which I sat and a small table next to it, it was devoid of furniture. The walls were a pale blue colour, and all I could think was that at least they weren't white. As I looked at the table next to me I saw a small glass of water and a single white rose, tied with a red silk ribbon. Timidly I picked up the flower, rolling its stem over in my hands, and then crushed it between my palms. The room filled with a sickly sweet scent and in disgust I dropped the flower onto the floor beside the bed. It was a reminder of his control over me, I knew it.

Climbing from the bed I saw that there was a small mirror on the wall over the table, and suddenly I remembered the reason I was here. My hands flew to my mouth, and my tongue ran along my teeth, making me jump as it encountered two pointed teeth where my canines had been. They felt odd in my mouth and now that I had noticed them, I couldn't not be aware of them. Apprehensively I walked up to the mirror and looked at myself. Ignoring the pale, pinched face in the mirror that told me I hadn't had enough sleep in the last few days, I smiled, revealing my new teeth to myself for the first time. Even though I had never been particularly prone to smiling pleasantly before, I knew now that I never would again. Even my pathetic attempt at a simple, unmenacing smile was now intimidating, as the two pointed teeth feircened any softness in my face. Their tips were a pure gold and the effect, despite making me feel a little ill at the thought of how they had done it, was quite awe inspiring, I had to admit. I ran my tongue over them again, trying to get used to the feel, and knew that the Capitol would adore my new look. I closed my mouth but I was still aware of them, digging softly into my gums, and I knew that for the rest of my life I would be reminded of how I had killed Calico. Every time I looked at someone, they would be reminded of the moment that I had sunk my perfectly human teeth into the soft, pulsating skin of her throat and ripped out her life.

I was torn between delight and dismay at the idea and the struggle of emotions exhausted me. I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and tried to decide what to do now.

The decision was removed from my hands as the door opened and Raven stepped into the room. I found I was almost glad to see her.

"What do you think?" I asked dryly, before she could say anything, and bared my teeth at her. She flinched backwards, a look of horror on her face, and I knew that the effect was exactly as I had intended. People were going to be terrified of me, which meant the Capitolians were going to adore me even more for the giddy thrill I inspired in them. Marvellous, I thought bitterly to myself.

"It's um..." she said, apparently lost for words as she stared open mouthed at my teeth.

I gave a cold laugh and rose to my feet. "Terrifying," I finished her sentence for her. As much as I hated the fact that the Capitol, the President, had done this to me and made me feel powerless, the end result really wasn't too bad. I of all people could live with being terrifying. Perhaps they wouldn't touch me as much anymore.

Raven nodded again then seemed to pull her gaze away from me with great effort, glancing down at her now familiar tablet. "There is the Ball in two hours, your prep team are waiting for you."

I clicked my teeth together and gave a small smile. Perhaps for once I could have fun with my prep team I thought to myself as I followed Raven from the room.

* * *

The Ball it seemed was in celebration of one of the members of parliament's birthdays, and it was held in a grand ballroom in the formal Capitol Building. Anyone who was anyone attended this event and as we glided towards the centre of town in a long silver car, Raven informed me of the evening.

"There will be some previous Victors there," she commented, peering out the window to see where we were. "I believe your mentor will be attending, Ramona Belis, is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Joy," I responded dryly and Raven gave a small smile.

"Yes, I've heard she's quite a fun person to be around." The sarcastic comment from Raven surprised me. I would just put her down as yet another one of the annoying Capitol people and then she would go and make a joke or something similar, and to my even greater surprise I found I liked her sense of humour. Or perhaps it was simply that she seemed to like my sullen mentor as much as I did. I hid a smile by looking out my own window.

"I don't really know any of the other Victors," I replied. There had been some of them at my Victory party, but apart from Ramona and Domitius I couldn't particularly remember any of them. The whole evening had been a bit of a blur as I tried to keep my head above water, and after my encounter with President Snow I had stormed out early. Raven looked at her tablet which was balanced on her knees.

"Well, I think there will be one other Victor from your district there, Brutus Evenis. He won the 56th Games and..." as she continued to talk about Brutus and his history with the Capitol, I tuned her out, trying to recall an image of the Victor. I did remember his name but he had won when I was only six years old. The only thing of his Games I recalled was my father watching the final moments and then suddenly rising to his feet and smashing his fist through a window in our living room. I had been so terrified that the actual Victory hadn't registered with me at all. I pushed the thought of my father aside and tried to focus back on what Raven was saying. I didn't need to think of him now. He was dead and he couldn't terrify me anymore. I was my own Victor now, no one terrified me. _Except_ _President Snow_, said an annoying little voice in my head. I told it to shut up and looked back at Raven. She was still listing Brutus' feats. "...and then of course Ms. Belis-" she finally continued, "-the 60th Games. And Ms. Florentine-"

"Florentine?" I asked, interrupting her, the name not familiar to me. It sounded more Capitolian than any district name, except perhaps District 1.

Raven nodded. "Yes, Hazel Florentine, from District 7. She won the Games last year, the year before you."

"Oh."Now I remembered her and her Games. She had been a formidable tribute, even before entering the Arena. Of all the non Career districts 7 had the most Victors and they tended to be tall, strong and fierce. Perhaps it was the environment they grew up in, I didn't know. All I remembered of Hazel herself was that she had taken a similar approach to me, refusing to play the Capitol's Games and rejecting any alliances. Her weapon of choice had been a double headed axe, the weapon usually chosen by the lumber district, and she had beheaded at least 3 tributes, a particularly nasty death even for the Hunger Games. Domitius had made me watch her Games several times, and it was only now that I realised perhaps it was because he thought she would be the last Victor I would have the chance of studying before I entered the Arena myself. I pushed the thought of Domitius and the Training Centre aside before I let homesickness seep in, and focused back on Raven. "Is that all of them?"

She hesitated and her fingers flew to her earrings which she began to twist around and around. "No..." she said cautiously. "Finnick...Mr. Odair, will be there as well." I watched her closely as she spoke, and saw how her eyes glanced away as she stumbled over his name. I was intrigued.

"The 65th Victor?" I clarified and she nodded mutely. I brought to mind everything I knew of him. "From District 4, he was only 14 when he won...which would make him...16 now?" He was younger than me, than both of us. I grimaced at the thought of undoubtedly how arrogant the Career boy would be by now. "He killed with a trident, didn't he?" I asked her and she nodded again.

She was still twisting the pearls in her ears round and round again and suddenly it clicked. Pearls. The boy from the fishing District. "So when did he give you those earrings?" I asked casually, and was rewarded by the way she withdrew her hand from her ear, clasping them tightly in her lap and paling slightly.

"He...no..." she said, clearly flustered and I suddenly felt a little guilty for inspiring such a reaction.

"It's okay, I won't get you in trouble," I reassured her softly. "Or him," I added, thinking of the power the President had over me. For all I knew it was his safety and sanity Raven was scared for as much as her own. She seemed to hesitate for a long moment, clearly tossing up her trust of me- which I hoped was severely small. After a while though she obviously decided I spoke honestly because her shoulders relaxed.

"He was a good friend to me when-" she broke off, glancing down at her hands. "I used to spend a lot of time following my father around on Capitol business. Finnick was the only other young person around often, and he looked as bored as I was." She shrugged, a small smile escaping onto her lips at a memory. "We used to play tricks on the old politicians, watch them fluster and screech around when they found out." The memory clearly made her happy, but then her smile faded and she looked out the window again.

We fell into silence and for a few moments I watched the blurred, colourful lights of the Capitol rush passed outside. At night this place could almost be appealing, if you took away the people.

"We're almost here," Raven said eventually , beginning to flatten down imaginary creases in her skirt. Briefly I wondered if she was nervous. From the sounds of it she had been attending these sorts of things for years, and mixing with these people. It should be second nature to her by now surely, and yet she seemed just as nervous as I was at the prospect of entering the ballroom filled with Capitolians and previous Victors. On a sudden whim I decided to ask her.

"You seem anxious about tonight, Raven," I commented, and she paused in the act of opening the car door, turning to look at me.

"My father used to work for the President. He-" Her eyes flickered to the side and then, clearly deciding not to continue that sentence, looked back at me. Her eyes were once again clear and firm. "I have to prove myself."

This, I understood. I nodded and moved to pull myself out of the car as well. I ignored the Capitolian attendant who offered me a hand and waited for Raven to walk around from her side of the car. The impressive facade of the Capitol Building loomed above us and I looked at it with significant apprehension. Raven moved to stand beside me, also looking up at the building's front. Without looking at her I leant in a little way so only she could hear my words. "I killed seven people to prove myself," I commented, before moving away from her towards the building, my head tall. If I had to be a part of all this nonsense I was going to do it in my best District 2 style. A few feet from her I paused, a thought suddenly striking me, and turned to look at her over my shoulder. "Eight," I amended, thinking of my own father with bitterness.

* * *

**A/N: As an apology for taking soooo long to update this story I have uploaded 2 chapters for you. I hope that makes up for the long delay and I will try not to let it be so long again.**

**As always, reviews and comments are always appreciated.**

**- Lu**


	5. Chapter 5

The Ball was horrific. The moment I walked into the grand room and saw the clash of colour that meant a room packed with Capitol people, I knew that I would take another week in my frozen Arena over this night in a heartbeat. At least in the Arena I could get away with killing people to relieve my stress. As I cautiously descended the staircase, trying to appear intimidating whilst not falling over my dress, I doubted very much that it would be acceptable to kill anyone in this room.

I had barely set foot at the base of the stairs when I was already surrounded by people, cooing at me and then gasping with delight when they saw my teeth. Word spread fast and a continuous stream of people came at me, placing ridiculously decorated hands on my bare shoulders to catch my attention, automatically causing me to growl or snap at them, and then pretending to faint in shock when they saw my new trick. After ten minutes I was exhausted, and it took all my mental strength to refrain from actually sinking my teeth into the next person who touched me.

I found myself desperately wishing that Domitius were there. The only other time I had had to endure something like this was my own Victory party, and he had been there, lurking amongst the crowd and appearing at opportune moments to steal me away with a fake smile at the trembling Capitolian. There was no one to do that for me now.

The only thing keeping me from turning tail and marching from that room multiple times was a raised stage at one end of the room, upon which I could always see President Snow's figure over the heads of the crowd. He sat in the centre of a long table and although he seemed to be constantly busy talking to important politicians, every time I looked towards him he seemed able to meet my eyes with his cold grey ones. The first time this happened I held his gaze for a long moment, refusing to let myself look away, and then had given him a small, fierce smile to reveal my teeth. Although he didn't return the gesture, I definitely saw amusement flicker across his face, and he had inclined his head in a regal sign of acknowledgement.

After one hour I was even willing to seek refuge in the company of my mentor in preference to being fluttered at by any more Capitolans. When Ramona saw me pushing my way viciously through the crowd towards where she sulked against a wall she scowled. "They let anything in these days, obviously," she said scathingly, and as her eyes flickered over me and then over Raven who, as always, was a step behind me, I wasn't sure which of us her comment was directed at.

I ignored her either way and leant my back against the wall next to her, revelling in the feeling of the security of having a solid surface behind my back. "It's nice to know you don't reserve that special venom of yours only for me," I commented, watching her glare out at the crowd. "It was in danger of going to my head."

She shot me a vicious look and ignored my comment, looking passed me to where Raven hovered nervously watching the crowd. "What's with the shadow?"

I followed her eyes to Raven, who had managed to match her elegant black dress to the one my prep team had put me in. They did seem to love putting me in black. "Raven, Ramona, Ramona, Raven," I introduced, watching with amusement as Raven pulled her eyes apprehensively to Ramona and timidly held out her hand. Ramona eyed it with as much amusement as I did but didn't take it.

"We don't shake hands in District 2," I commented to Raven as she flushed and snapped her hand back to her body.

"How do you greet each other?" Raven asked, curious despite her obvious embarrassment and discomfort.

I pondered it for a moment, and looked at Ramona who shrugged. "Usually with a knife to the throat...if we like you."It was such an adequate answer that I could only agree with her. Raven paled, more noticeable against the blush that had just graced her face, but to her credit didn't say anything. I think perhaps she was trying to decide whether we were teasing her or not. I watched her for a moment as she watched the crowd and thought that she wouldn't last half a second in my home district. Even the junior classes would eat this nervous, fluttering girl alive. Despite that though, over the last few days she had impressed me with her strength. She was still with me after all. I had half expected her to give up by now, either through fright or through sheer frustration at the amount of stress I put her through. I was impressed with her determination and thought perhaps it wasn't so different from my own. We just had different goals.

"Looking for anyone in particular?" I asked teasingly as I saw her eyes scan the Capitol people milling before us. We seemed to have managed a few minutes of solitude where we lurked in a shadowy section of the room. She was just about to shake her head hurriedly when there was a light laugh from our left and she spun around.

"Would it be too much to dream that she's looking for me?" asked a tall, bronzed boy with eyes that sparkled wickedly. He looked exactly like the type of boy who would be trouble. I knew instantly that this was Finnick Odair, even though I would not have seen him since he won two years ago, and he had certainly grown up since then. He was taller than all of us, despite still only being sixteen, and his confidence, clear in the way he held himself, made him seen even taller. He lounged casually against the wall near Raven and I think it would only have been noticeable to someone who was looking how close he stood to her and how easy they seemed in each other's presence. I heard a contemptuous snort from Ramona and glanced at her. She was studying Finnick through narrowed eyes.

"She still hasn't forgiven me for killing her tribute," Finnick explained in a tone so casual I knew it was forced. I looked back at him, trying to decide exactly how indifferent he was to the death. I knew that District 4 was an optional Career district, and everything about this boy told me he had trained, and trained well. Something about him though made me think that perhaps he wasn't as ruthless as Ramona and I. It may just have been that he lacked District 2 coldness, but there was something in his eyes that made me think he didn't enjoy the killing as much as a Career should.

"That and I simply don't like you," retorted Ramona bluntly, causing Finnick to break into a grin that I was sure had charmed hundreds of Capitol women.

"You don't like anyone," I pointed out to Ramona and she ignored me haughtily. For the first time Finnick looked at me properly and in his face I saw the same reactions that had been repeated all night. His eyes widened slightly and his gaze flickered between my eyes and my mouth. I gave him my best cold smile, showing off my new teeth. Despite the attention they were causing me, I was becoming quite fond of them, or more specifically fond of the moment of fright they seemed to inspire in people.

He tilted his head to the side in an analysing manner but all he said was, "Nice teeth."

Then promptly he turned to Raven and began talking to her in a voice so hushed that I couldn't make out the individual words. I watched them for a few moments, seeing how she smiled more naturally than before, and how he seemed to lose some of the intimidating and charming demeanour that I'm sure he was by now an expert at pulling on for the Capitol audiences. They instantly looked like two kids talking about simple things.

Something akin to sadness wrapped itself around me as I watched them and it took me a moment to identify it as jealousy. I'd never really been jealous of anyone before, there didn't seem much point. But as I watched Raven laugh at something he said and look guiltily over his shoulder at the Capitolians, I thought for the first time in my life I craved friendship. Or maybe it was just that I craved how easy they seemed to be with each other. Suddenly I was overwhelmingly homesick, longing to be among the other students of the Training Centre where I didn't have to pretend to be anything I wasn't. I may not have had any friends there, but at least I knew how to act. This constant pretence of the Capitol was wearing me down. The only person I had ever had anything close to easiness with was Clove. We understood each other and she never questioned my behaviour or made me talk about things I didn't want to. I longed to be pacing through the woods silently, knowing that she was several feet away doing the same, as we hunted down a deer or other animal. I never needed to see or hear her to know she was there, or that she would be right behind me when we went in for the kill.

Swallowing passed a lump in my throat I turned away from Raven and Finnick, realising with dismay that now I was left only with the charming Ramona for company. I was saved from even contemplating attempting conversation by the appearance of a tall, balding man before us all. His dress and stature identified him easily as one of the most important politicians or such in the city, and he looked contemptuously down at us all, no doubt seeing nothing but faceless District people.

"Keeping three Victors all to yourself, Raven?" he said in a cold tone, his eyes lingering on her as she hurriedly stepped away from Finnick, dropping her gaze just as she had with President Snow. I stared hard at the man, wondering who he thought he was to talk about me as if I was not standing before him. I was about to say something that would no doubt have got me in trouble when Finnick stepped forwards, holding his hand out the man and pulling back the charm he'd arrived with. He gave a casual smile and I wondered if I was the only one who noticed that as he moved he effectively stepped in front of Raven. It was such a subtle thing that I dismissed it, thinking it just coincidence. "Honour Evangeline," he greeted in a tone that told me he'd met this stern man before. "Pleasure to see you again."

The man took his hand and shook it gruffly, not returning his charming greeting. He seemed to me a man that was probably perpetually grumpy and dissatisfied with everything. Finnick's reaction though also told me that he was a man to show respect to in this city. I would have shown him the same rude behaviour he showed to me, but Clove as still fresh in my mind, so I showed him my teeth instead and nodded my head in what I assumed was a respectful gesture. His interest picked up minimally at the sight of my new teeth, his eyebrows raising a fraction in surprise and the glare diminishing a fraction. "Very impressive. You are just as the President described to me, Ms. Reyes." I didn't answer, unsure if I liked the idea of President Snow describing me to people. Panem knew what he said.

He huffed in amusement at my silence as I stared coldly back at him, then his eyes flicked back to Raven. "It's a miracle you've been able to make it this far," he said, continuing to speak to me though his eyes remained on her. I didn't know what the relationship was between the two of them, or the obvious politics that were at play, but I understood clearly the sharp comment in his words, the implied insult to Raven.

I snapped my teeth together sharply to draw his attention back to me, then gave him a cruel smile I liked to reserve for my prey. "I don't believe in miracles."

* * *

Too many torturous hours later I finally managed to escape the ballroom. Unsure when it would be considered acceptable to leave I took my queue from Ramona. It wasn't something I wanted to make a habit of but I decided that if she could get away with leaving then so could I. I practically dragged Raven up the sweeping staircase and out the grand entrance.

"We're leaving," I declared, looking around wondering how exactly I'd get back to the apartment.

"Oh...okay," she stuttered, straightening her dress where I'd tugged it crooked, and trying to compose herself. "You should really pay your compliments before leaving but-" she broke off at the look I gave her and nodded. "Right, yes, okay."

She moved away to talk to a uniformed man standing by the door and left me alone in the doorway. I scowled at a painted couple that walked passed me and the woman giggled giddily and clutched at her partner.

"They seem to like you," commented a voice behind me and I turned to find myself once again greeted by Finnick Odair's dazzling smile. He slung a hand into one of his pockets and looked at me curiously through his golden, shaggy hair. He still looked young, but with the confidence he exuded it was easy to forget that he was a year younger than me. I suddenly felt a lot older than my seventeen years as I stood next to him in my striking black dress and glaring at the people around us.

"They'll regret it if they do," I replied curtly and he laughed like he found it entertaining.

"I was very much looking forward to meeting the girl who had half the Capitol and practically all the Districts shaking in their boots," he commented with a teasing edge to his voice.

I ignored it. "Only half?" I said in mock disappointment, and then looked back into the ballroom. "I'll have to work harder."

Inexplicably his expression fell at my words and he took a step backwards. Puzzled I watched him closely but he didn't seem inclined to elaborate on his reaction. Instead, as if to distract me, he moved his eyes passed me to where Raven was still talking to the man. "Don't hurt her," he said, and I followed his gaze. "Or you'll have me to answer to." His tone was joking but I knew there was a genuine threat behind his words. This was the boy who had beaten or killed 23 other teenagers when he was just fourteen, after all. I doubted he was a person to be underestimated.

"Are you two a couple?" I asked bluntly, my mind conjuring Manius and Junia, the only young people I'd ever really seen in love. He gave a short laugh, his hesitant, wary attitude disappearing.

"No, we're friends. She reminds me of someone back home. She's not like the rest of them here, she doesn't deserve what they put on her." I wanted to press him further about what he meant by those cryptic comments, but then Raven was standing next to me again, smiling a greeting at Finnick.

"Your car is coming," she said to me, gesturing back towards the man. I watched as the same sleek silver car pulled up and had to stop myself practically running to it, I was so desperate to be away from the head aching Ball and back in the relative solitude and security of the apartment.

"I won't insult you by saying it was a pleasure to meet you, Enobaria," Finnick said as I gazed longingly towards the car. I ignored him, and his teasing comment, and turned my back to the ballroom, beginning to walk down the stairs. I heard him say something else to Raven behind me and despite my exhaustion and bad mood I was curious to know what it was. There was definitely more to their friendship than either were letting on. But my straining ears couldn't quite pick up their murmured comments and by the time I reached the car Raven had left Finnick's side and scampered down the steps to join me.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone. I love hearing your thoughts on each chapter. There will definitely be more Finnick and Raven but as always with this story patience is a virtue. Anla'shok- you're right with your last review, it was a bit of a plothole that Enobaria only subconsciously emulated Hazel's tactics. Very perceptive of you and thank you for picking it up.**


	6. Chapter 6

By the end of the three weeks my temper and patience were practically blown. Raven had taken to permanently keeping three feet away from me because I kept lashing out at her every time she told me of some new event I had to go. Despite this she seemed to have gotten used to my temper, and I had gotten used to her Capitol ways, and we were sometimes almost getting along.

As soon as she had told me that I only had three more days before I could go home, I was counting down the minutes. It was almost harder once I was aware of it. The thought of home and the solitude of my house and the forest kept slipping into my mind and teasing me in contrast to the noise and colour of the Capitol. As the days got closer Raven's nerves seemed to increase.

On the last day she wouldn't meet my eyes at all as she told me there was another party that evening and that the President had specially requested my attendance. I glared at her as the messenger of this news and put her increased timidity down to my bad mood.

"Let me guess. That means the prep team again, doesn't it?" I asked dryly. I had seen far too much of my nosy, annoying and completely disrespectful team in the last three weeks. Raven nodded, her gaze fixed on her feet. I was just about to snap at her asking what on earth was wrong with her when we were interrupted by the prep teams very arrival. They exploded into the apartment without even knocking and gathered around me, smothering me in their foul smelling perfume and already pinning me down. These days they anticipated my resistance.

In contrast to our trip towards the last party this time Raven sat in determined silence the whole journey. I was brooding, lost in dark thoughts of how close I was to going home and how horrible this party was going to be, and barely even noticed till we were pulling to a halt and she cleared her throat in a nervous little noise.

I glanced across at her, startled from a detailed fantasy of how I could kill a Capitolian with their own jewellery. "The President wished me to express how...appreciated your cooperation is," she said in a small voice, still not meeting my eyes. I blinked at her in confusion for a moment, not understanding the sudden need for the President to remind me of my position. The continued threat was evident in his painfully formal words but, despite the colourful deaths in my mind, I had been nothing but distantly respectful to most of the Capitolians I encountered.

"You can inform your President that I'm glad he is approving," I said sarcastically with quite a bit of venom in my voice. The look on Raven's face told me she had no such intention of relaying my message but she also looked like she wanted to say something more to me. Her mouth opened slightly but then she stopped, nibbling at her lip. "What is it, Raven?" I pressed in a warning tone that made her shift uncomfortably. Whatever had been said over the past three weeks she was still scared of me. But then she shook her head dismissively and gave me a forced smile.

"You're going to be late." Without giving me a chance to push further she climbed from her side of the car, prompting me to do the same.

* * *

President Snow was once again omnipresent at this party. The moment that I entered, my eyes were drawn to where he sat regally surveying the room. Something flashed in his eyes as his gaze landed on me. I looked around mildly hopeful that there would be other Victors there, like last time. The thought of a conversation with Ramona, or even the painfully charming and cryptic Finnick, didn't fill me with enthusiasm, but at least they were preferable to any of the Capitol people. Interactions with them certainly couldn't be considered conversations.

There was only one person visible in the room who clearly wasn't a Capitolian. I recognised her instantly even though, surprisingly, we were yet to meet. Deciding it was time we did, I walked towards the girl that was my predecessor to Victor- Hazel Florentine from District 7.

She turned as if she sensed my approach and watched me weave through the crowd with dark, veiled eyes that gave nothing away. Once I was standing before her I realised that of all the people I had met in the Capitol, Hazel was the one most eerily similar to myself. She was dressed in black like I almost always was, and her raven hair tumbled free down her back. Her skin was tanned dark and her muscles lean and it was clear she knew hard work even if she was not a Career.

"You killed my tribute," she accused without introduction.

"I killed seven tributes so you're going to have to be more specific," I retorted instantly, trying to look mildly bored with the conversation.

She smiled like she approved of my answer. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smile. The dark, guarded, cold look of her eyes reminded me distinctly of Lupa, the tribute from District 4 who had been my greatest enemy in the Arena. I was glad that I had not been in an Arena with Hazel. "Only seven?" she said, lifting her eyebrows in mock disapproval. "I killed nine."

"Two of those were practically dead already. You just put them out of their misery." She gave a small shrug as if the minute detail didn't matter to her. It probably didn't. As she looked back at me I got the impression that I had somehow passed some form of test. I seemed to have earned her approval, not that I had been looking for it.

"Out of their misery, is what you did for the girl from Eight?" she asked. An image of Calico's terrified eyes flashed into my mind but I pushed it aside and made sure my eyes were cold and firm when I looked back at Hazel. She regarded me with amusement.

"I ripped out her throat. Call it what you want."

She was saved from answering by the arrival of a tall man who moved up silently behind her and place a long fingered hand on her shoulder. She glanced over her shoulder at him in a way that told me she knew who he was before looking.

"Would you excuse us Hazel my dear?" he said to her in a soft voice, though his eyes were on me. I held his gaze defiantly. "I would like a word with young Enobaria here."

Hazel's gaze swivelled back to me and she gave me a small smile that didn't reach her eyes, and a light flutter of her fingers. "Catch you later Two." Then she was gone, slipping like a dark and silent ghost through the crowd.

"Follow me please, there is someone who would like a word with you." Everything in the man's tone and body language told me it wasn't a polite request but an order, and with a sinking heart I suspected the person who wanted so much to speak with me was the President. I steeled myself for the encounter, trying to summon my courage passed the deep exhaustion. I followed the man silently through the crowd and out into an elaborately decorated hall. He seemed to assume I was following as he headed up a broad staircase and it made me mad that he assumed me so obedient, and even madder that he was right. We reached a carved oak door and he turned the handle, holding the door open for me. I stalked haughtily passed him and into the room, hearing the door close with a swish and a click behind me.

"Welcome," said a young, male voice behind me. It wasn't President Snow but it was a Capitolian, I could tell by the smug entitlement in his tone.

Somehow I stopped myself from jumping as I felt cold fingers land on my bare shoulder. A moment later he had moved into my vision as he walked in a small circle around me, a small smile plastering his lips as his eyes raked over me. Absently I noted that in each of his bright blue nails, blue to match his hair, there was a gem embedded in the tip. The effect was that every time he moved his hands a small scatter of coloured lights danced around the room, making my head spin.

He stood before me, his hands on his hips, and gazed at me as if I was a new coat he had just purchased.

"What was it you wanted, exactly?" I queried rudely, crossing my arms over my chest in a manner that was supposed to appear aggressive. I was really doing it though because something about that way his eyes were looking me up and down made me feel distinctly uncomfortable and I suddenly felt like hiding myself from him as best I could.

He didn't reply for a few moments but then he pulled his eyes back to mine and gave a thin lipped smile. "I want what is owed to me, Enobaria." My mouth opened in a tart reply but before I could even inhale he had taken a step towards me, his weight pressing against me and pushing me back into the wall. My arms still clutched around me meant that I wasn't prepared to fight as I normally would have been, and I felt my back collide with the wall as his body pressed to my front. It was only a second inaction though and like lightning my hands were at his shoulders, shoving him roughly backwards.

He took a few steps though his reflexes were good and he didn't fall like I would have liked. Without realising it I was shaking. Not because I had been threatened by someone larger than me, that was nothing knew and I knew I could kill him in a flash if I wanted to, but because as his eyes locked back with mine and I saw the cold anger there I suddenly knew there was much more to this.

"Now, now," he cooed, standing tall again and taking a step back towards me. "They don't pay you to fight me, be a good girl-"

"They don't pay me to do anything!" I shouted at him, losing my composure as in a rush of ice through my veins I realised what he wanted from me. In the dress that left my shoulders completely bare, and tangled itself around my ankles, I suddenly felt extremely exposed and vulnerable. I wanted badly to be back in my sleek, fitted training clothes with the hidden pockets for my blades. Just as I had in the Arena, when I had been confronted by a crazed Lupa, I found myself without a weapon and terrified to my core at the thought. But this wasn't a highly trained tribute, I had to remind myself, trying to slow the pounding in my chest. This was a vain Capitol man who had probably never had to fight in his life. "Stay away from me!" I hissed at him, curling my fingers at my sides and pressing myself back against the wall.

He ignored my comments and took another step, his expression almost bored. "Why do you think the Sponsors give you gifts, Enobaria?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as if he was studying me. He took another step and I hissed at him, baring my teeth. To my disgust this only made him chuckle with amusement and his eyes gleamed brighter with desire. "It's because they want to see your pretty little face again. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you can figure it out."

I stared at him in horror as I did indeed figure it out. Everything suddenly clicked into place; Snow's warnings, Domitius' cryptic refusal to let me stay in District 2, even Raven's flighty behaviour tonight. They'd all known that this was what awaited me and no one had told me. I stared at the man with the blue hair before me as he watched with satisfaction as it sunk it. An overwhelming urge to claw out his eyes and sink my teeth into his skin suddenly raged through me. He took another step, closing the gap between us, and placed his hand delicately under my chin, raising my eyes to his. It was if the touch sparked something inside me and I lashed out, white clouding my vision as I lunged at him, my limbs knowing from years of training how to fight even if my mind was too horrified to comprehend what I was doing. There was a loud shout in my ear that made me flinch backwards and then there was silence and stillness. I collapsed onto my knees on the ground, panting for breath, and tried to blink away the haze in my vision. When I did the sight before me made me feel even sicker than I already did. Sharp pain ripped through me and I clutched at my stomach, a moan escaping my lips as I doubled forwards.

He lay on the ground before me, bright scarlet gouges down his throat when my nails and teeth had clawed at him. But it was the angle of his neck that made me begin to tremble all over again. His head was twisted around and his eyes stared blank and open at the far wall. He was dead. Somehow, I didn't even remember doing it, I had snapped his neck as I attacked him. Defended myself? Attacked him? Was there a difference in this case?

As sat in the middle of the room and stared silently at the body I knew the difference didn't matter. Dead was dead. I had just killed a Capitol man, and not just any, but the man the President had sent me here to see.

"Your cooperation is appreciated..." Raven's words, the President's words were in my head and I knew that what I had done couldn't be taken back. A strangled gasp escaped me as I realised that I might as well have just signed Clove's death warrant myself. No. This couldn't be happening.

Suddenly, desperately, ideas were flying into my head. I rose to my feet, the shaking instantly disappearing as I searched frantically for a way to fix the problem. I could hide his body, I could make it look like an accident. A million thoughts were flying through my mind but I couldn't seem to hold one down long enough for it to be any use. I was spinning on the spot, my eyes frantically scanning the room, and my hair whipping about my face in a bedraggled mess. My heartbeat was pounding loud in my ears.

A small knock on the door made me freeze on the spot and I stared at the panelled wood in horror. The body lay at my feet, broken and bleeding and making me look completely guilty.

"Enobaria?" It was Raven's voice calling softly through the door, followed by another small, timid tap. I tried to answer her but my voice was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was torn between screaming till my lungs burst in pure frustration and simply collapsing on the spot into tears. I couldn't believe what I had done. His life I couldn't care less about but the pressure I had felt since my Victory party, the unknown but sinister meaning behind Snow's words was suddenly pressing down upon me, forcing the breath from my body. They were going to kill her. That's what he had as good as said to me. They were going to kill her and it would be all my fault, because I couldn't control myself.

The shock of my knees hitting the ground broke me from my desperate downward spiral. I hadn't even realised I'd sunk to the ground again, sitting in a puddle of my dress next to the body.

As I'd somehow known it would the door creaked open and there stood Raven in the outline of the doorway, her eyes wide as they fell upon me and her mouth dropping open. "Wha-wha?" she stuttered, then the colour drained from her face as she properly took in the body next to me. "Is he dead?" her voice was a horrified whisper and strangely it struck me that perhaps this was the first time she had ever really seen a dead body. Watching someone die on the screen was one thing but standing in such close proximity to a body that had moments ago held a beating heart was completely different. Normally it filled me with breathless adrenalin but now it just made me feel cold as ice all over.

"Raven you have to help me," I begged, climbing unsteadily back to my feet. "They'll kill her, it's not her fault, they'll kill her and it'll be because of me..." I knew the words weren't making any sense and she was staring at me with as much horror as she'd stared at the body. Suddenly I wondered how I looked to her. She'd always only just trusted me not to tear her apart but now, with my new teeth, and my hair in a tangled, wild mess around my shoulders, and his blood still drying on my hands, now I must really look like the psycho killer I was. She shook her head numbly, backing up towards the door, her eyes fixed on me.

"You killed him!" She was horrified at the idea but I also saw a flash of pure panic in her eyes and I knew it was for herself. _I need to prove myself_. The consequences of this were going to stretch far beyond just Clove and I.

She let out a terrified scream as her back collided with someone and we both jumped, staring at the figures that had appeared in the doorway. The room was suddenly full of people, though there could only have been six or so of them. All dressed in their best evening wear and screeching at the dead body at my feet. I couldn't handle it anymore. The colours, the noise, the overwhelming pressure of my thoughts was going to crush me and I pushed them aside, throwing myself from the room and down the stairs. Startled guests yelped and cried out in outrage as I shoved them roughly aside on my path to the door. I didn't care if I killed another hundred of them now. It would only have taken one for the damage to be done and I had killed him.

* * *

**A/N: I know I keep saying I'll update quicker, so I'm sorry that I don't and I feel I should explain. My mother is very sick at the moment and life just spirals around crazily. Unfortunately I don't think it is going to improve any time soon, so although I will keep uploading, I probably shouldn't promise to always do it quickly. I hope that you can all stay with me through my unpredictability. I love the feedback and knowing there are people reading along all the way of Enobaria's story.**

** Anla'shok- That should say 'beaten or killed'- it was meant to be that somehow he had overcome all 23 others. Good pick up. Also I'm glad you're frustrated with Enobaria, as that's my aim. Now you know what it's like to be in her head and not be able to process deeper emotions and thoughts.**

** akcanine- Enobaria loves her teeth too. :) She's a girl who likes to snap and growl.**

** Clove113- Several people have asked this. Towards the end of this part there will be a bucket load of Enobaria/Clove, Enobaria/Domitius and Cato/Clove, so all the people who've been asking when those relationships with come back don't have very long to wait.**


	7. Chapter 7

Two months after walking out the front door I found myself entering the house again. Just as when I had returned from the Arena, from the Capitol the first time, I thought that miraculously everything here looked the same. Not one object had moved as I walked into the kitchen and yet I felt so different.

Dread had eaten away at me every moment of the train ride home. I knew they wouldn't prevent me leaving the Capitol. That wasn't the punishment I would receive. If it was possible I was even more jumpy than I used to be. A branch scraping against the roof had me flattening myself against the wall, picturing men in black scaling the vulnerable house. It was ridiculous though. It wasn't me they were going to be after. At the thought of President Snow's threat hanging over Clove I shuddered and my eyes flew to the door. She should be due home from training any minute now, early autumn darkness was just beginning to creep in. I was terrified that I would sit here, waiting and waiting, and never hear her return. I had no idea what to expect from Snow's threat. Would it be subtle, almost like an accident? Or would it be a public display to warn everyone against my defiance?

For a while I paced around the kitchen, my mind running away with me as possibility or possibility flashed through my head. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and threw myself into one of the kitchen chairs, my head in my hands.

It was completely dark by the time there was a footfall on the doorstep and I sprang to my feet again, every nerve singing with fear and anticipation. She had barely put a foot through the door before I was flying at her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into the room. She let out a startled yelp and tried to pull away, until she saw it was me, and then a familiar scowl came across her face. "What are you _doing_?!" she exploded, yanking her arm back from me. I barely even noticed her anger as I let my eyes fly over her, looking for a sign that Snow's threat had been carried out. But apart from grumpily rubbing her wrist she seemed fine as she stalked passed me into the kitchen. At the door she turned to me, dropping her arm back to her side. "You leave for two months and this is how you say hello?" she muttered. I let out a slow breath of relief and tried to give her a smile. Her eyes flickered to my mouth, widened slightly, but her lips clamped firmly shut like she refused to comment.

"I'm sorry," I attempted, trying not to let my voice reveal the way my heart was pounding. Although the threat was still there I was overwhelmingly happy to simply see her, alive and glaring daggers at me. "I'm just glad to see you."

She huffed and shrugged her shoulders sullenly and she suddenly looked exactly like the teenagers at the centre. Hesitantly, slightly apologetically, she lifted her eyes to mine. "How was your trip?" she asked, her curiosity obviously overpowering her stubbornness. At the reminder of the Capitol I glanced away, my stomach suddenly twisting painfully again. I swallowed, trying not to think about the Capitol man with brilliant blue hair and gems embedded in his nails.

"It was nothing special," I said dismissively, forcing myself into movement and walking passed her to the cupboard. "Are you hungry? Want a drink?" I pulled mugs from the shelf and filled the rusty old kettle with water without waiting for her reply.

When I turned back to her she was sitting on the edge of the table, legs swinging in the air, and looking at me with eagerness. "What's the Capitol like? Is it as awful as they say?" I gave an evasive shrug, pretending to fuss with the mugs. There was absolutely no way I was talking with Clove about what had really happened in the Capitol. She did not need to know about any of it, especially the threat hanging over our heads. But she wasn't going to give up so easily, leaning forward. "Ena, tell me. What did you do there?"

The image of the blue haired man flashed before me again and I winced, closing my eyes briefly. For a second I swore I could feel his hands on my hips and frantically brushed them away. Clove was looking at me quizzically, her head tilted to the side. Quickly I turned the movement into a casual gesture and turned back to the mugs. "Clove, just leave it," I snapped. The second the words left my mouth I could sense her hurt and when I turned to apologise she had slid from the table, refusing to look at me.

"I'm not hungry," she muttered as she walked passed. I reached out, my fingers snagging the sleeve of her shirt, but she shook me off roughly. I had been so worried about her and now we were fighting. It left a bitter taste in my mouth and made me want to scream and throw things in frustration. Suddenly I realised I could. No one was going to stop me here. Picking up one of the mugs from the bench I hurled it at the wall. It shattered with a crash louder than I would have expected and made Clove halt in her exit. She looked in shock at the shards of the pottery as they clattered to the floor and then back at me. The sudden burst of rage had felt so good as it raced through my body. For a second I was the ferocious, terrifying girl who had won the 67th Hunger Games again, not the girl who was forced to do as men told her because of one powerful man's threat against a child. I wanted so badly to be that old girl again. She had control. She had power. I hated this new girl who let herself be consumed by fear every minute of every day.

But the sudden rush of exhilarating rage was gone almost as soon as it arrived. When Clove turned her shocked eyes to me all I could do was turn away and vanish from the room before I gave in to the torment of emotions ripping through me and dissolved. I had a feeling that once I cracked there was no going back. I shut my bedroom door behind me, blocking her out, and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the blank grey wall. It was only hours later, after I had distinctly heard her go to bed, that I realised in ten shorts minutes I had managed to successfully raise both my mother and my father from the ashes to haunt this house again.

* * *

For weeks I waited practically holding my breath the entire time for something terrible to happen. I knew my rebelliousness in the Capitol wasn't going to go unpunished. Every night I found myself praying that Snow would be merciful and take it out on me, not Clove. But the memory of the night of my Victory Ball haunted me- the touch of his cold fingers on my neck as he had whispered her name to me. And I knew that President Snow was a far from merciful man.

In the end the first danger came not from the Capitol but from our own District. I heard the shouting as I jogged through the woods behind the Training Centre, and curiosity brought me through the trees. The sight of flames and rubble shocked me. This was District 2, they were foreign sights here. In a daze I joined the mass of people swirling in the Square, spinning around for a familiar face, trying to ask people what was going on. A moment later I didn't need anyone to answer me. A band of young men climbed up onto the steps of the Justice Building. They wore the tattered and dirty clothes of the quarry workers and too late I realised so did most of the crowd. The feel of the crowd was electric and tense and I knew without a doubt that there was trouble brewing. I backed away hurriedly, wary of being caught in the mass of angry people. The young men on the steps began shouting at the crowd, riling up their anger with chants against the Peacekeepers and the Capitol. They were starving. Their families were starving and they were tired of seeing the wealth of the trained in the District. Pushing my way to the edge of the crowd, baring my teeth and growling at a few people to make them get out of my way, I climbed onto the base of one of the pillars of a building lining the Square, trying to get a better look. It was from there that I saw the line of Peacekeepers advancing from the western side of the Square. Their weapons and shields were pointed towards the crowd, most of whom were too focused on the leaders before them too notice. In horror I looked from the shouting men on the steps to the line of faceless white men and women. There was something about the uniform march that sent a deep shiver down my spine. They may as well have been automatons for all the emotion they showed as they advanced in a deadly line.

There was nothing to do but watch as they approached. The edge of the crowd at last seemed to notice they were there and a rustle of anger and fear went through the people. The men up on the steps looked at each other nervously, but the determination was clear in their eyes too. With a sinking heart I realised they were desperate enough to risk their lives for this. I hadn't realised life in the quarry towns was this bad.

I saw the person that threw the rock that started it all. He was a boy about my own age, definitely no older than nineteen, and he suddenly darted to the front of the line and hurled his meagre weapon at the nearest white clad Peacekeeper. It was if the action sparked insanity as crowd and Peacekeepers suddenly blended together in a riot of shouting and waving batons and screaming. People were being beaten down beneath the black sticks the Peacekeepers carried and they cried out as they were crushed and trampled by their friends. It was horrific. Somehow the sight of the violent, crying mass before me made me feel sicker than anything I had seen or done in the Arena. There was so much anger in the crowd. They saw their friends and family beaten down around them and still surged forward, fists and rocks raised as their only weapons. They never stood a chance.

I was clinging to the pillar, watching the violence with horror when a series of high pitched shouts reached my ears. My eyes turned to the far side of the crowd and my arms went weak, releasing my grip from the pillar. As I fell to the ground I was already stumbling to my feet and trying to tear my way through the struggling crowd towards the group of kids from the Junior Training Centre who had just stumbled into the Square. In the brief second before I'd dropped to the ground I'd seen the way they froze in surprise as the sight before them, but it had already been too late and they found themselves caught up in the chaos. Clove. She was here somewhere in the crowd and she was so small. No matter how fiercely she thought she could fight she didn't stand a chance against either the armed Peacekeepers or the oblivious, violent mob. I shoved people out of my way as I tried to struggle my way to the far side of the Square where I had seen them. Limbs and weapons knocked at me on all sides but I didn't care. With a jolt I felt myself yanked backwards as an arm came around my neck from behind. Forgetting the power of my new teeth I bit down hard into the flesh and heard a scream of pain and a moment later I was released. I didn't waste time seeing if it was worker of Peacekeeper which I had attacked, I was already digging my way through people again, kicking, shoving, biting my way towards the childish shouts I could still hear. I didn't care if I hurt Peacekeeper or protester in my battle. All I wanted was to find Clove. It was only by miracle I think that I stumbled upon her. I almost missed her but a flash of dark hair caught at the corner of my eye and I spun around, my heart in my mouth, my eyes desperately searching the tangle of colour and bodies for her. She was tiny compared to the people around her and I saw her get shoved to the side, coming scarily close to falling and being trampled beneath their feet.

"Clove!" I screamed her name and saw her head whip around towards me. With a shout she began to struggle her way to me. I grabbed at a person in my path and twisted their arm behind them, hearing a snap and a sharp cry of pain, and pushing them away. My fingers reached for her shirt and latched onto her with a dizzying sense of relief. I pulled her to me, trying to protect her from the shoves and strikes around us with my own body. Something caught me in the small of my back and sent me toppling forwards. Half turning I saw a flash of white and knew it had been a Peacekeepers baton. Without waiting for the second blow I kicked out at him, sending him falling back into a mass of people who pounced upon him mercilessly. His shouts faded into the screams of the crowd as I dragged Clove roughly through them, trying desperately to head for the edge and relative safety. At last we burst through a cluster of people and were no longer packed tightly together. "Run!" I screamed at her over the noise, pushing her ahead of me and not giving her a chance to catch her breath. We sprinted down the cobbled side street we'd emerged onto. When I overtook Clove I grabbed her arm and half dragged her along beside me, just desperate to put as much distance as possible between us and the madness of the Square. No matter what they thought and how angry they were the consequences of today were going to be dire for the quarry workers. I didn't doubt that tomorrow and probably for the next few weeks to come there would be regular executions and public beatings in the Square. In the district those responsible would be humiliated and punished, but the outside world would never hear a word of this.

We ran all the way to the edge of town until I saw the lights of Amica's house emerge before us. Clove was gasping for breath when I finally let her stop, and my own lungs were complaining each stab of air. "Are...you...okay?" I managed to get out eventually as we both collapsed onto the scrawny patch of grass before the steps of our house. She nodded, still gasping for breath, and leant her elbows on her knees.

Trying to will my heart to cease its merciless pounding I fell back onto the grass, staring up at the sky. Already a few stars were beginning to emerge between the dusky clouds. I tried to count them as my breathing slowly returned to normal. No matter how fit I was a panicked sprint like that was still agony. It was the panic of the violence that had taken my breath as much as the dash. I'd never seen anything like that before and I hoped I never would again. The thought of the angry young men on the steps of the Justice Building made my heart contract painfully. If they had survived the fight they would be dead by morning. No one escaped the Capitol's justice.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all those lovely messages. **

**Hope you enjoy the chapter. I am aware that some people may have issues with the plot of it but I argue that _inequality_ is a greater cause of dissent than almost anything and we know District 2 definitely had that. Anyway, I'll be interested to hear your opinions on it.**

**Lu**


	8. Chapter 8

If I had hoped that in the chaos of the riot's aftermath that President Snow had forgotten about my own rebelliousness, I was wrong. It was the very next evening that he took his revenge.

The entire day I had kept Clove and I locked in the house. We both winced every time a gunshot echoed off the hills. The first few times she met my eyes silently across the room and we both tried not to think about the person that was being executed. The Capitol liked to serve their justice rapidly and mercilessly. I refused to let Clove go to training and for the first time in her life she didn't seem to want to go. She didn't even kick up a fuss when I bolted the door and told her not to step foot outside that house.

When I heard a terrified scream from next door though, I broke my own command. Clove was on my heels as we dashed towards Amica's house where the noise had come from. It didn't even enter my mind that it had anything to do with the riots and the Capitol. Amica's husband had been one of the most senior Peacekeepers before he was killed in duty three years ago. There was no way any of yesterday's madness would have come back to her family.

So when I saw three men dragging a limp shape down the garden path I felt my own scream of terror rise in my throat. I skidded to a halt, Clove crashing into my side, and grabbed at her, pushing her behind me. She clawed her way around and cried out, trying to dash forwards when she recognised the figure. Pax, Amica's second oldest boy was tossed semi-conscious onto the grass a few feet from us. The men, dressed in official-looking but black Peacekeeper gear didn't even throw us a glance. My eyes flew to the front door to see Amica come stumbling down the steps. In the fading sunlight I could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She was screaming out and the sound ripped through me as she threw herself uselessly at the men, clawing at them and begging them to leave her son alone. The three other boys were close behind her and I was worried they were all going to get themselves killed. They launched themselves towards their brother, striking out at the men. I saw Cato amongst them, small against the other grown men, as he darted around a hand reaching for him and kicked another man in the kneecap. There was a tug and flurry of movement next to me and too late my fingers snatched at Clove as she slipped away, dashing towards him.

"Clove! No!" I screamed, lunging after her. Just before she reached the group I grabbed at her jacket, yanking her backwards by the collar, not caring if I hurt her. She was screaming abuse at me and the men, twisting furiously in my grasp. Everything was chaos as people attacked each other until a single gunshot split the cold air and everyone froze. I had my arms wrapped tight around Clove's shoulders, pulling her towards me, and felt her stop fighting and begin shaking at the sound. In unison everyone looked towards the gate to see a suited man holding a gun above his head. Knowing everyone's eyes were upon him he slowly lowered the gun, pointing it towards the group of bodies on the ground.

"Nobody moves," he said in a cold voice. Strangely I recognised his accent as the same clipped tone I'd associated with Lupa, the District 4 tribute from my own Games. Even though he was a head shorter than the other black clad men there was something terrifyingly sinister about him. He carried himself with an air of authority that warned us not to challenge him. The gun, a handgun, glinted silver in his hand. I'd never even seen one in real life before. No one in the Districts would own such a weapon.

Amica's sobs as she collapsed into Aron's arms were the only sound as the man stepped silently up to the boys on the ground. He gave Cato's shoulder a nudge with the barrel of the gun and I tightened my grip around Clove's shoulders as I felt her tense. Her whole body was trembling but I couldn't tell whether it was from fear or anger. Eyeing the gun with clear hatred but also wariness Cato pulled back. He was grabbed roughly by the collar by one of the men who deposited him with his mother and older brother. They watched in frozen horror, helpless to do anything against the man with the gun. He could kill any of them in an instant and despite the agonizing sobs that were tearing themselves from Amica she seemed to realise this, clutching two of her sons tightly to her as if to stop them from throwing their lives away. I watched in horror as the men pulled Pax and Taras apart. The twins still looked as similar as they had when they were little boys who would run shouting down this very path, screaming a greeting to me as they jostled and shoved each other. They'd grown up into tall, and strong boys of 15 but next to these men they still looked like helpless children. I saw blood streaming down the side of Taras' face as he was dragged limply away from his brother and dumped on the ground at his mother's feet. She let out a strangled cry and dropped to him, pulling him into her arms as if he were still a toddler.

"Pax Navarro, you've been accused of leading the rebel group responsible for the violence in District 2 yesterday." The man's words cut coldly through the air and slowly sunk into my brain. There was a series of cries of protests and I realised my voice was among them. This was ridiculous. Pax hadn't been anywhere near that crowd yesterday. He was the son of a Peacekeeper for Panem's sake, and one of the best fighters the Centre had. My fingers released on Clove slightly and I pushed myself forwards.

"You're wrong! He wasn't there!" I shouted at the man angrily, baring my teeth as one of the men in black reached out to restrain me. He halted at the sight of my teeth but to my surprise he gave a cruel smile. He turned to the man carrying the gun and gave an almost imperceptible nod. My mind was frantically trying to piece it together but my fury was still burning too strongly to allow logical thought.

I took another step towards them and the suited man turned to face me. He had eyes the colour of steel and just as cold. He gave an amused smile and pointed the gun. I followed the path of the barrel with my eyes and saw with dread that it was fixed on Clove. My eyes flew back to him. "How would you know whether he was there or not?" he asked softly and to my horror I realised the trap. With his weapon trained in Clove there was no way I could admit to being in the Square yesterday. And if I hadn't been there I couldn't deny their claims. The powerlessness of the situation made me want to scream but instead I stayed frozen to the stop, staring him straight in the eye. No matter what I knew I couldn't risk Clove's life. There was a flash of triumph in his eyes and then he turned away, pointing the gun back at Pax. Two of them grabbed him roughly by the arms and hauled him to his feet. Amica let out another strangled cry but she seemed beyond anything more. She clutched Taras to her like he was the only thing keeping her from collapsing into herself. Aron had Cato in a vice like grip similar to the one I'd had on Clove and I could see from the look on the younger boys face that if he hadn't been restrained he would have been throwing himself at the men, heedless of the weapon. Silence stretched around us for a moment. Everyone seemed frozen in place and my eyes were fixed to the man's face as he lifted the gun. I realised too late what was about to happen and reached for Clove. There was another rippling shot as bullet left gun and Pax's head snapped back. Amica let out an unworldly scream as his body slowly crumpled to the ground, the men letting him drop. My fingers found and dug into Clove, pulling her to me careless of her screaming, crying protests, and burying her face to my front. Even though I had watched countless Hunger Games with her, replayed kills over and over, I didn't want her to see the body lying bleeding on the ground before us. I didn't want her to see the body of our friend, a boy of fifteen years old with a bullet wound through his skull and his eyes staring glassily at the sky above.

I don't know which of us was shaking more as the men stepped disdainfully away from the blood and moved silently back towards the gate. I was so fixed on Pax's body that I didn't notice the suited man standing before me till he was a foot away. I flinched back, half spinning around so Clove was away from him, but he wasn't lifting his gun towards us. He gave me a cool smile of triumph and in that moment I knew why he was here. Pax hadn't been at that riot and he knew it. With a casual movement the man pulled something from his buttonhole and tossed it at my feet, before turning and walking silently away. Amica's wails rang in my ears as numbly I stared down at the object. A blood red rose lay in the grass, its petals slightly crushed and a pearl white ribbon tied around its thornless stem. President Snow's calling card. No one ever escaped the Capitol's justice.

* * *

Hours later, sitting in the main room of Amica's house trying to comfort her unceasing sobbing I realised the flower was still clutched in my hand. Everything had dissolved into a blur of crying and shouting and Clove tugging from my arms and running to Cato. I had let her go. The men were gone and they'd had their revenge. It wasn't Clove they were going to take their revenge out on after all, but this was no better. I had known Pax since he was a little boy and Amica had been more of a mother to me than my own could ever have been and it was unbearable to sit here so helpless now as she disintegrated before my eyes. She couldn't speak. The only sound in the house was the small wailing that occasionally escaped her lips as she rocked backwards and forwards, staring into oblivion. Was this what it did to you when you lost someone you loved? Aron had not left his mother's side and his face was an ashen mask, but no tears escaped him. Since his father had died he had taken on the role of leader in his family, and although he was only a year younger than me, he looked every inch that as he supported his mother. I tried to do the same but I felt so useless. How could I possibly offer Amica words of comfort when I was as good as the reason Pax was dead. He had done nothing wrong. That bullet had been because of my actions, not his.

I couldn't comprehend the injustice of it and every time I thought about his horrific death my body went cold. Perhaps this was the guilt I should have felt after the Arena? Perhaps this was what you were supposed to feel when you did awful things? How was it that the guilt finally eating at me wasn't even for one of the children who had died at my own hand?

For a while I sat uselessly, patting Amica's back with an awkward touch, and trying not to meet Taras' eyes. He had been cleaned up but under the blood his face had been deathly white. Like his mother he just sat there staring at nothing, and if it hadn't been for the occasional flutter of his eyes I could have mistaken him for a corpse himself. Eventually I couldn't handle the silent agony of the room any more. Their grief pressed against me from all sides and I found I couldn't breathe. This was my fault. I rose unsteadily to my feet and muttered something about checking on Clove, but no one noticed me. As I moved into the hallway I tried not to look into the other room where I knew Aron had brought in Pax's body, where it lay shrouded in darkness to be mourned over later.

Climbing the stairs I ran a hand over my eyes and realised that I was shaking. What was wrong with me? I was a killer, I killed people. I'd seen people die before me since I was a little girl- the rare executions in the Square that my father had always made me watch. I had killed twelve year old children by plunging my knives into their hearts and I'd felt nothing as they died beneath me. What was wrong with me?

It struck me as odd that I was asking myself that question when, possibly for the first time in my life, I was actually reacting the way a _normal_ person would. I'd always considered myself 'wrong' and yet now it felt strange to be horrified at a death. Somehow the thought brought a strangled laugh to my lips, but it sounded twisted and terrible in the absolute silence of the house. I dropped my hand from my eyes and placed it on the wall, steadying myself as I trailed along the corridor. Somehow I just knew Clove would be with Cato.

They were curled up on the bed together, looking like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that perfectly fit. She had her face pressed into the side of his neck and he clutched at her, burying his face in her hair. They both looked as if they were asleep and so as I eased the door open and stepped into the room I tried not to make a sound. They would have looked peaceful if it wasn't for the pained expression on Cato's face- even in sleep- and the tears I could see still gleaming on Clove's cheeks. It struck me, how close they had become. Had I not noticed it since I'd been away? Could two months really make all the difference? There was three years between them but the way Cato clung Clove to him you wouldn't have been able to tell. It surprised me that a tough eleven year old boy would even want to be friends with an eight year old girl. To my surprise I realised I was jealous. Jealous of Cato for how Clove had run to him, only him, and jealous of Clove for having someone to run to. I looked at their hands resting next to each other and thought that I had never had anything close to that. I'd never really minded being alone. It was safer, easier that way. But as I watched their regular breaths I felt a tug of longing. I watched them sleep for a few moments until a murmur from Clove pulled me from my thoughts. She frowned and pressed her face closer to Cato, nuzzling into him. My breath caught in my throat and I knew I was going to break. I escaped the room and threw myself down the stairs and out the front door before it broke over me. I made it all the way back to our house and through the front door before the first sob ripped itself from my chest. Sliding down to the dusty kitchen floor I hugged my knees to me and cried. There was no one to tell me it would be alright, no one to offer a comforting touch, not that I deserved either. It wasn't going to be alright and I didn't deserve comfort. I had killed Pax. I was responsible for the agony his family felt.

After Panem knows how long of wallowing in my misery alone and cold on the kitchen floor I wiped away my tears. No one else was going to come and pull me together and I'd never been very good at feeling sorry for myself. As I scrubbed away my tears and climbed stiffly to my feet cold conviction set in. There was no choice for me now, and strangely having it so completely taken out of my control wasn't awful. I gritted my teeth and glared at the far wall. From now on there was no choice. I was one of the Capitol's objects and I was going to have to do whatever President Snow _requested_ of me.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews over the last few chapters. The couple of comments on typos have been fixed up in the last few chapters.**


	9. Chapter 9

It was almost three months before there was a perfect red rose lying on my doorstep one day when I returned home. Clove was already home as I walked through the front door and I was surprised that she hadn't already picked it up. As I walked into my room- her room now- the rose clutched in my hand she looked up disinterestedly.

"I assumed that was for you," she commented, glancing back at the blade in her hands. She was turning it over, inspecting the shiny metal surface as if it held a secret message. I gripped the rose tighter in my hands, uncaring if I crushed the petals. A moment later I regretted it as the sickly sweet smell filled the room. Seeming to notice Clove scrunched her nose and glanced up at me.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to study." I looked at the knife in her hand and felt the familiar rush of desire I got whenever I saw a blade. I wanted to reach out and run my fingers along the cool, flawless steel, to wrap my fingers tight around the handle, pretty much as Clove was doing now.

"Where did you get that?" I asked instead, trying to pull myself away from the beauty of the weapon before it pulled me in. She shrugged evasively and I immediately knew she shouldn't have it. She was still only eight after all, they wouldn't have given her a blade at the junior centre and it wasn't one of mine. "Clove..." I said in a warning voice.

She shot me an evil look, her dark eyes full of anger that surprised me. "Cato gave it to me."

I was momentarily taken aback. Of course he did. She didn't have any other friends and certainly no one else who went to the Senior Training Centre. It still surprised me though that he had stolen a knife and given it to her, though maybe it shouldn't have. In my mind flashed up an image of how they had looked, curled up together on his bed, the night that Pax had been killed.

Clove had gone back to ignoring me and was trailing her fingertips along the edge of the blade. I wanted to tell her to stop before she cut herself but then realised that was a stupid thing to say. I couldn't reprimand her for something which I myself did. She would know it too. If one word of warning about the knives came out of my mouth she would give me that look of utter contempt that would remind me I had been wielding them since I was twelve and had killed people with them. I had no grounds for lecturing her on it. A part of me didn't want to. A part of me was secretly bursting with pride to see her holding it in her hands and looking at it as if it was Panem's own creation. Another part though was screaming a warning in my head, reminding me of the things I had done so Clove wouldn't have to be like me. She had a chance to be right but right now she looked as wrong, as dark and twisted, as I knew I was.

"Just don't get it mixed up with mine," was all I said after that mental battle. She didn't even acknowledge my words and so I spun and walked from the room. Apprehension was eating away at me but I couldn't quite tell why so I ignored it.

* * *

When I arrived back in my parent's bedroom I was reminded of the reason I had gone to see Clove in the first place and slowly unclasped my fingers, revealing the rose that annoyingly didn't look much worse for wear. With the sight of its silk ribbon my heart sunk again and I sat heavily on the side of the bed. He was giving me a second chance, that was clear enough. There was no invitation with fancy language this time, only a simple flower that held a sinister message.

I felt trapped. He would know that Pax's death, a warning of how easily they could kill the people around me, would be enough to force me to the Capitol. I hated that I was powerless against them. It was the exact feeling that I had been fighting all my life. It was the reason I had gone into the Arena. Stupidly I had thought being a Victor would give me control, give me power. Instead I saw now that I had just swapped one form of powerlessness for one which was arguably much worse. The idea of what they wanted from me made my stomach turn sickeningly and I had to clasp my head in my hands to keep from moaning. There had to be a way out.

By the time night had completely set in and the room was bathed in darkness I still had not come up with a solution. I was trapped, completely and utterly trapped.

I rose stiffly to me feet, suddenly realising I had been sitting in the same position for hours, and shivered. The nights were getting cold again. I looked to winter with dread. They'd never been particularly cold in District 2 but I hated even the feel of a chill now. I pulled one of the worn old covers from the bed and wrapped it around myself, taking comfort in the cacoon of warmth, and walked out into the kitchen. There had been no movement or sounds which meant Clove must still have been in her room. I was tempted to go upstairs and talk to her, apologise for the almost fight we had had that afternoon, but I found that I simply didn't have the energy to battle with her again. Instead I took a seat at the kitchen table and sat there, huddled in my blanket and watching the moonlight shadows move across the floor, waiting for the sun to show its face again.

* * *

"You're leaving again." Her words were more of an accusation than a question. I turned from the bag I had placed on the table and looked at Clove where she stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Just for a while. The Capitol sent for me." The bitterness in my words were clear but she didn't seem to notice, instead lifting her chin haughtily and looking away from me.

"You don't have to go." I looked at her, wishing desperately that her words were true. If only she knew how much I would do anything other than what they wanted from me. If only she knew that she was the only reason I was going. I couldn't tell her any of it though. She was eight years old, how could I tell her that the President would kill her if I didn't go and sell myself to wealthy Capitolans? Even the thought in my head made me shudder, but I just shook my head at her.

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

She looked back at me then, her eyes cold and the anger there was obvious. I hated the angry little teenager she was becoming. I wanted the kid that she used to be back, the one that looked at me with gleaming eyes when I told her about the first deer I killed. "Stay as long as you want," she said indifferently. "It doesn't make much difference to me."

Before I could reply she had left the room and I heard the front door bang and her footsteps running down the path as she went to a days training.

"Bye," I muttered to the empty room and turned back to my bag, staring at it glumly. I hated that she was right, in a way. Even when I was here I felt like I hardly saw her. If she wasn't out with Cato or at training then I was lurking in the dark confines of my bedroom. I knew even as I did it that I should go out and talk to her, ask her about her days training, but sometimes I just couldn't force myself to move.

I heaved the small bag over my shoulders and stared around at the plain, empty house. I'd never minded much leaving it. These walls had never been home.

* * *

There was no one to greet me when I arrived at the polished Capitol apartment this time. I pushed the door and found it open, so walked into the middle of the empty room.

I dropped the bag at my feet, not caring about making a mess and looked around with despair. It felt just like last time, except...

"You're back." I spun around and saw Ramona standing in the doorway. She was regarding me with that detached amusement she'd mastered and I felt no joy at seeing her.

"Yes," I forced out bitterly, causing her to laugh. I ignored her and looked around me. "Where's Raven?"

Her laughter vanished in an instant and my heart dropped. Oh no. She took a step forwards, into the room, and without meaning to I took one back. She was looking at me with the disdain she'd shown when she was my mentor. "Did you really think that little blonde boy would be the only victim of your little...display?" she asked contemptuously. It took me a few moments to realise she meant Pax and the blood went cold in my veins. How did she know about Pax? The rest of her message though seeped in and I stared at her in horror. Raven.

"Where is she?" I asked in a quiet, cold voice, trying not to let her see how panicked I was at the prospect of another death on my hands. Again, I found myself wondering why the idea affected me so much. I still didn't feel any particular guilt about the deaths in the Arena, and definitely not my father's. Why did the idea of Pax and Raven being dead make my heart jump?

Ramona rolled her eyes, instantly losing her intense look, and huffed. "Well, I don't know _exactly_..."

"Is she dead?" I found the words harder to ask than I thought I would. Raven shouldn't bother me. She was one of them, one the Capitol people who were controlling my life. I should hate them all.

Ramona fixed her eyes on mine and gave a small smile that made me want to launch a sharp object into her throat. "I hope she's dead, for her sake." Forgetting my refusal to show emotion in front of Ramona I flung my arm out for one of the kitchen chairs and sat down heavily. What was she saying? I didn't know what the Capitol was capable of, not really. The men dressed in black and the suited man carrying the dreaded gun flashed into my mind and I knew there was much more to the frivolous, innocent looking Capitol than met the eye. I wondered how many of the vain, petty people walking the streets knew what their _beloved_ city really did to keep them safe and happy.

Ramona seemed entertained by my reaction and without saying anything else walked silently from the room, pulling the apartment door shut behind her. She'd taunted me, that was all she'd come here to do. I stared at the door after her remembering that once I'd thought we were similar. We weren't.

* * *

There were no parties this time. I knew that the President wanted my services when a messenger arrived at the door to the apartment, informing me that a car would pick me up that evening and I was to wear the dress that was laid out on my bed. Then without another word he had disappeared as if he was an automaton.

I stared numbly at the empty hallway for a minute before snapping back to focus and moving to shut the door. A voice calling out a sharp word made me pause and I saw a figure walking down the hallways towards me. I was inclined to shut the door in her face, the thought of talking to anyone making me want to throw things, but I resisted, watching her warily as she walked up to me.

"You look cheerful," Hazel said with a cold smile.

I gave her a killer look and moved to shut the door. Like lightning she moved forwards and placed herself in the doorway, preventing me. I was reminded of her Arena, and how she had had the skill of moving so fast no one seemed to know she was upon them until they were dead. I hadn't shared a conversation with her save the brief introduction we'd had the night before I left the Capitol, but as she waltzed into the apartment it was as if we were old friends, or what I imagined friends acted like. I sighed and shut the door. "What do you want?" I asked bluntly, hoping she'd tell me whatever it was she'd come to say and then leave. I wanted to sit in the dark and contemplate my fate in misery in the few hours I had left before I had to leave.

When she rounded on me her smile had vanished and she threw herself leisurely into one of the armchairs. She didn't seem inclined to be leaving anytime soon and I contemplated throwing something at her to make her change her mind. My eyes flicked around the room half interestedly, wondering what would make a good weapon, even as I walked forward and took a seat opposite her. She looked at me with her dark, analysing eyes for a few minutes and I stared back, equally dark. She didn't intimidate me.

"I came to offer some advice," she said after a long pause. I ran a hand through my hair in exhausted frustration.

"Well would you like to offer it and then leave? I asked rudely. She gave a small, cold laugh and leant forwards.

"I quite like talking to you, Enobaria. You're not scared of me."

I gave her a scathing look that held all the contempt I could muster. "Why would_ I_ be scared of _you_?" Despite my words I could recognise her point though. We were probably more similar than I liked to admit. Not just physically, though we were that with our small size, black hair and our cold black eyes. Hazel had been the one to first give me the idea that it was possible to reject the Career Alliance. They had offered it to her, after she had shown her talents with an axe but she had looked them coldly in the eye and said "thanks but no thanks". I remembered sitting in the Training Centre watching that moment in the Arena.

"Stupid girl," one of the trainers had muttered, but I had disagreed. That year's Careers weren't good. They were arrogant and over confidant and I liked Hazel's defiance in rejecting them. In the end she'd proven everyone wrong, beheading each of the Careers with her axe within one day. She also struck me as someone who didn't really do friendships. Despite myself and the circumstances I had to admit that of all the people that could have walked into my apartment just now, Hazel was probably the one I would want to kill least.

Pulling me from my reflections she delved into a pocket and tossed something at me. Automatically my hands flew up, catching the small plastic packet in my hands. I glanced down at the three white pills inside, something heavy settling in my stomach. "What are they?" I asked Hazel in a low voice, though it was a needless question. I knew exactly what they were.

She leant back in her chair with an easy grace and gave me a smile that showed all her teeth. "It makes it easier. Trust me." She nodded towards the bag in my hand. "Go on. Best take one now."

I ignored her instruction and weighed the bag in my hand, buying myself time. The pills were about half an inch and powdery white with a clear C etched into them; C for Capitol. If I took them I'd be yet again surrendering myself to the mercy of the Capitol. Hazel seemed to be reading my mind.

"This is control, Two, that's what you want, isn't it? Don't let them make it hell, you control how much you suffer this time."

"It still happens though, doesn't it?" I said bitterly, in a moment of weakness letting my anger at the whole arrangement out. Hazel's smile vanished.

"There's only so much that can be done, Enobaria." She pointed at the pills in my hand. "This is the best we have, trust me."

* * *

On Hazel's instructions all three were gone by the time my car pulled up out the front of an elegant, white building. I could feel them too, and it wasn't pleasant. It was a terrifying sense of weightlessness and disconnectedness. For someone who had been fighting her whole life to be in complete control of her body, this was one of the scariest feelings I'd ever experienced. But as I began to walk carefully and slowly up the steps of the building I also began to realise that the disconnectedness lead to something more. I began to realise that I simply didn't care as much. Every thought that floated into my mind wouldn't stick and that stopped them from digging in their claws, wrapping their tentacles around my mind and sending me into fear.

Hazel was right. This was the best I could hope for. Not caring.

* * *

At dawn I was deposited back at the complex where the Victors lived. Everything still felt surreal as I slowly made my way up to my apartment. There was pain, more than I had been expecting, and it darted through even the haze of the pills.

I sat with my back pressed against the front door as I felt the residual effects start to disappear. I couldn't move, just sit there and observe as sensations, and emotions, and memories began to crystalise in my brain. It was then that I realised that I had misunderstood Hazel. I thought she'd meant I wouldn't feel it ever. Instead I realised she'd just meant I wouldn't feel it at the time.

It became clear, as things began to flash through my mind, that even if under the haze of narcotics I hadn't thought I'd known what was happening, my subconscious had been painfully aware the entire time and now it was kicking back with a vengeance.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead to my knees as if that could make it stop.

The darkness was worse. My skin shivered and twitched as imaginary hands roamed over my body and my chest constricted as it felt like a great weight pressed down upon me, flattening me, pinning me.

Reflexively my hand slammed against the ground in an attempt to make it stop but all it achieved was a splintering pain up my arm, my bad wrist. Still, concentrating on the pain radiating to my shoulder helped a little and allowed me to breathe again, inhaling a painful stab of air and lifting my head from my knees.

There was a soft tap on the door at my back which made me jump in a way it never would have used to. Instantly my mind whirred with horrible thoughts. They weren't done with me.

The panic that I had only just managed to control was back, tightening around my ribs, clouding my vision, roaring in my ears.

"Reyes?"

I recognised the voice, and the accent, but more than that I recognised the greeting. My fingers parted over my face and I peeked out slightly, the panic subsiding slowly as I regained control of my breathing.

There was another harsh knock on the door and an exasperated sigh. "Open the door, Reyes."

I turned my head to the door. No one in the Capitol would call me that, not in that tone of voice. Here they called me Ms. Reyes, or Enobaria if they felt like risking their lives. Most of the other Victors simply called me Two. Only someone from home would call me by my surname as if it were a title in that curt, no nonsense tone. It was my name as I'd been hearing barked out across the Training Centre for the last five years, someone who came from that world that felt like home.

"What do you want?" I managed to kick my voice into action but it didn't sound as gruff as I would have liked it. There was another sigh but no answer was provided to me.

I opened the door a crack, just enough to make out a pair of storm grey eyes looking down at me with dry amusement, a sinister smile twisted on thin lips. I opened the door slightly more, even though it may not have been wise, but I refused to be seen as a frightened little girl hiding behind a door. I glared at him with every ounce of coldness I could summon.

"Ha!" he exclaimed when I did, slapping his hand against the doorframe in amusement. I jumped. "That's more like it. For a moment there I thought I was going to have a scared little kitten for a fellow Victor. That might be fine for the snivelling weaklings elsewhere but I expect more from a District 2 girl...woman." His eyes darted over me critically but it didn't feel disgusting as the Capitol's did. It felt more like someone would study a prize horse. Even though he was loud and crude I found my panic and fear subsiding further and almost found I felt at ease. Everything about him felt like home; his voice, his mannerisms, his words. I knew where I stood with him and it gave me back my courage.

"You're Brutus Castillo," I said evenly, giving him the same analysing look he'd given me a moment ago. He was as tall up close as he'd seemed from a distance. There were scars across his shaved head, like those Domitius had. I knew he had received many injuries, both in the Arena and in tavern brawls and street fights in District 2,

* * *

but despite them he still stood straight.

"That I am," he replied, narrowing his eyes. "And you are Enobaria Reyes. Our newest little Victor."

"I'm not little," I countered sharply, sliding out from behind the door and facing him squarely. It would have been a lot more intimidating if I hadn't only come up to the middle of his chest and didn't have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His eyes flickered momentarily to my teeth and a smile flashed across his face.

"Not little then," he conceded with only a hint of patronisation. "But young. You've made history , kitten. You're the talk of the Victor's Bar."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms to show him exactly how much I cared about being the talk of the Victor's Bar, though inside I was a confusion of inexplicable pride and wariness. Did I want to be the talk of anywhere?

"What do you want?" I demanded instead. I had no idea why he had decided to 'meet the new girl' all of a sudden but I wasn't really in the mood. Not that I'd ever really be in the mood for socialising.

He pressed his lips together and stared hard at me for a long moment and I glared back into his steel grey eyes that were more than intimidating. I could definitely see why he was one of our most ferocious Victors, why the students at the Centre told stories about him with a mixture of awe and fear in their voices. "You're going to be spending a lot of time here, kitten," he said at last, once again using that irritating pet name. "You might want to start meeting your fellow Victors."

I scowled harder. "I don't _do_ friends," I spat back at him.

He grinned at that. "None of us do, kitten. That's why we have each other."

* * *

**A/N: I didn't quite keep to my weekly promise of updates this week, so apologies for that. But I hope you all enjoy the chapter anyway. Even if it is a very fast paced chapter. That is mostly because I really didn't enjoy writing it and wanted to get it over with. I've grown to love Enobaria a lot and it pains me to have to put her through hell on so many levels like I did in this chapter. Oh well, I guess it only gets worse...it is The Hunger Games after all. **

**Thanks for the recent reviews everyone. -Lu**


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks before reaping day for the 68th Hunger Games, there was a messenger on our doorstep telling me I was requested at the Senior Training Centre immediately. Grumpy at being summoned like some trained puppy I made the messenger wait impatiently, dancing nervously from foot to foot while I deliberately wasted time.

When I eventually arrived, the senior trainers and Brutus were standing around in a tight circle, talking intently. I cleared my throat, trying to appear braver than I felt when confronted with basically all the authority figures of the Centre. Aemilia turned and looked at me first, her eyes as cold as ever.

"You finally decided to grace us with your presence then?" she snarled.

"I was busy," I replied curtly before walking forwards towards the group. To my surprise they made room for me and I walked up next to Brutus, who was easily a head taller than me.

"Enobaria you will be a mentor for this year's Games," Priscus stated without delay. I was still focused on glaring at Aemilia so it took me a moment to process his words.

"Mentor?" I repeated dumbly, staring at him. "I only won last year though. What about Ramona or, or...?" Suddenly I realised there wasn't anyone else. We had so many Victors but somehow Ramona and I had ended up being the only eligible females. The last five female Victors were myself, Tass, Ramona, Lyme and my mother. Two of those were dead.

"Ramona's been retired. Your turn," Domitius said gruffly without looking directly at me. I didn't respond to his comments, falling short of fully ignoring him. I still hadn't forgiven him for his inability to tell me what awaited in the Capitol.

Facing Priscus again I opened my mouth to argue, decline the role. Mentor was the last thing I wanted. It would mean more time in the Capitol. I shuddered at the thought of having to go there every year. Not to mention the role of actually mentoring two tributes in the Games. Assuming this year's tributes were both 18 we'd be the same age for goodness sake. I would be mentoring students from my class potentially. That would never work.

"It is not a request, Ms. Reyes," Priscus said simply, his eyes flashing warningly. "It is an order. You know the way things work." I shut my mouth again quickly and glared furiously at the ground. I couldn't help but feel there was Snow's old threat in his words and I felt betrayed by one of my own.

* * *

For the first time I watched Reaping Day from the stage instead of the crowds. It felt wrong to be up there flanked by town officials and Capitol people. I felt like a traitor and I hated every minute of it.

I glared stonily out at the crowd trying to look over their heads and not focus on individual faces. I didn't yet know who the tributes would be and I didn't want to try and guess.

The same Capitol escort as last year flounced out onto stage, though this time her long hair was orange instead of magenta. She cooed out at the crowd who stared solemnly back at her. I wondered how many reapings it would take her to realise that District 2 did not smile politely for the Capitol, no matter how close we were to the city. The usual film played and then she was stepping up to the large glass bowls which were practically ornamental in this district.

"Bea Cassare!" she called in a clear voice, beaming around the crowd. A fifteen year old quarry worker moved away from her group to the centre of the crowd.

"I volunteer." I looked with everyone towards the voice as a tall, black haired girl moved out of the 18 year old section and walked steadily towards the stage. I tried to place her face but I didn't recognise her at all. She must not have been one of the students in my classes because until the escort asked her name I didn't have a clue who she was.

"Alethia Rodriguez." The girl stared back at the crowd with a strong, cold gaze and I allowed myself to hope that perhaps this would be a tribute to walk out of the Arena. I quickly pushed the idea away- every district 2 tribute looked like they had the ability to win, but most didn't. I had to face that fact. Although we brought home many more tributes than any other district, the truth was we still lost a lot. In the last twenty years we'd had six victors, including myself. That was six survivors out of forty tributes. Better odds than any other district but still not overly high.

While I had been lost in my thoughts the male tribute had been called, and I only tuned back in when I heard another cry of volunteering go up from the crowd. I forced myself to focus back on the scene in front of me in time to see a familiar dark haired boy walk out of the crowd. His name was Myron and he had been in Aemilia's class. I remembered him well. He had been the one to pin my arms behind my back while Ronan had assaulted me. As he walked up to the stage our eyes connected for a second and he gave me a cool smirk. I stared coldly back at him. I was a Victor of the Hunger Games now, not some seemingly-defenceless student in the Centre. He might think he was in control but when he was in the Arena I would hold his life in my hands. I stared back at him till he dropped his gaze and then allowed myself to feel mildly triumphant.

* * *

As we went through the train journey, the arrival in the Capitol, the painful presenting and parading, I tried not to remember that it had been only a year ago that I had been the one to do these things. At the time I had thought it would simply be a matter of fighting, killing and then leaving but since then I seemed to have endlessly found myself in the Capitol, the place I hated most in the world.

Standing in the Control Room for the first time on the morning of the Games, Hazel seemed to read my mind.

"Back so soon?" she teased with a small smile, sliding into place next to me. I ignored her and stiffened my shoulders as the other mentors began to trickle into the room.

It was a long room filled with twelve desks. Each desk reminded me of Domitius' back in the Training Centre, covered in papers and charts. They also held a monitor which I presumed tracked each tribute. Few of the mentors though took up their positions as the desks. Instead they congregated at the far end of the room where a wall of screens showed several camera views as well as a constant stream of tribute profiles, stats and odds. Despite the fact that their tributes would be fighting to the death in mere minutes the mentors seemed surprisingly friendly with each other, though the atmosphere of the room was sombre.

Many of them I recognised from my own viewings of the Hunger Games, though quite a few of the outer districts had been before I was born. The District One mentors were standing aloofly to one side of the room, whispering to each other and staring coldly at everyone else. The woman, Velvet, I remembered had won only a few years before I had, but the man, Emporio, had won when I was small. Brutus was yet to arrive in the room, in fact I had barely seen him since our arrival in the Capitol. Finnick Odair was talking sternly with a group of older mentors on the opposite side of the room and as I watched he glanced up as if he could feel my eyes on him. His returned gaze was not friendly and I remembered his words of warning to me about not hurting Raven. It was evident he blamed me for whatever had happened to her.

"Good morning, Hazelnut," said a friendly voice from beside us and I pulled my attention from the dark looking Finnick Odair to see the District 10 Victor, Hyde, standing next to us. Oblivious to me he was giving Hazel a small, charming smile which she was not returning.

"Call me that again Hyde and it'll be the last you hear of any nuts."

Seemingly completely undaunted by her threat he smiled again and sauntered away towards Finnick's group. So I guess he was a District 10 mentor.

For many of the other districts, their mentors were the only surviving Victors they had. District 12 only had one mentor, the perpetually drunk Haymitch Abernathy who at that very moment slouched into the room and instantly threw himself into his desk and crashed his head down on its surface. No one even seemed to notice.

"They'll be starting soon," Hazel said simply and walked away. After a pause I followed her and took up a position with a clear view of the screens. Alethia and Myron were ranked in the top two positions, with the boy from One and the boy from Four coming close behind them. The rest of the mentors settled into a restless silence and moments later the screens showing the Arena lit up.

There was a rustle of murmuring in the room as everyone surveyed the Arena. It looked tranquil, deceptively so I guessed. I couldn't help but think of my own Arena, of the frozen lake and snow capped mountains and the dark, appealing forest. It was the complete opposite of this sun drenched field that stretched for miles. Desperately scanning the screens I looked for hiding places and found none. It wasn't until the tributes rose into position that I realised the real trick of the Arena. From above it had looked like a simple field but once all twenty four teenagers were in place there was a gasp of surprise as everyone in the room realised the tall, golden stalks of the field were far taller than even the tallest tribute. They would be lost in a field of wheat, forging their own paths and with nowhere to gain a higher advantage.

"Hm. This'll be interesting," muttered Brutus who had suddenly appeared beside me. He looked at the screen with complete disinterest.

"You don't care if either of them survive, do you?" I asked, my curiosity overruling my pride. He turned towards me but his eyes didn't focus on me and it was then that I could smell the stench of alcohol on him.

"Give it one or two years and you won't give a damn either."

* * *

Once the Games were underway the atmosphere of the room changed completely. Velvet and Emporio snapped into action, approaching Brutus and I and barraging us with alliance talk which had already been agreed but had to be put into practice. Mostly it involved using the strength of the alliance to get sponsors and then distributing the results between our tributes.

All of them escaped the first round of mutts but a lot of others didn't. Six were taken out by the enormous vultures that descended on those that were already wounded. The birds were twice the size of any of the tributes and many of them didn't even stand a chance against the claws and beaks of the creatures. Hazel lost both of her tributes to the mutts, Hyde and Finnick each lost one of theirs. The Career pack of Districts 1 and 2 and the boy from 4 was still going strong on the fourth day, despite us having to send them sponsor's gifts of water. They managed to keep the food from the Cornucopia but there was no source of fresh water in the Arena and several poorer tributes died of thirst.

Myron was the first of the Career pack to die. He was taken out by the second round of mutts on the fifth day. I watched a pack of mutation rats descend on him with indifference. I found it hard to feel any sympathy for the boy who had been part of an attack on me, no matter how brutal his death.

"Your new one's an ice queen, Brutus," I heard someone mutter as I stared stonily at the screen as the boy screamed agonisingly. Carefully I turned my gaze from the bloodied body of the boy on the screen to the groups of mentors, though I didn't know who had spoken. Several pairs of eyes blinked back at me for a moment before glancing away, moving onto the next event of the Games.

* * *

Alethia and Gloss, the boy from One, were the last two in the Arena. The others were methodically taken down by the Career pack, thirst and the scorching heat of the relentless sun. By the final two both Alethia and Gloss looked ragged, covered in dirt, dust and blood. They were both too focused on fighting each other to notice the flickering wall of wild fire that approached them through the field until it was already upon them.

I noticed the fire on the screens at the same moment that Velvet did and we both cried out involuntarily, realising that we couldn't do a thing to help our tributes. Some of the other mentors called out to the screens, urging the tributes to realise the threat that was nearly upon them, but District 1 and I just stared in frozen anticipation. Gloss noticed first. He was facing the fire front and suddenly his eyes widened and he took off away from Alethia. She hovered for a second, stunned at her opponent's sudden and unexpected retreat then seemed to realise that something wasn't right, turning and gasping in horror at the eerily smokeless flames that danced feet from her. She took off after Gloss, all thoughts of fighting leaving both tributes minds, but those few seconds had cost her dearly. The flames raced ahead, sparking on a bunch of stalks ahead of her and she skidded to a halt, spinning in a wild circle as she realised too late that she was trapped by flames on all sides. I lost track of Gloss, though I could hear Emporio shouting behind me, and I watched only Alethia as the flames closed in on her. It didn't take long. A licking tongue of fire caressing her side and then her jacket was alight. She screamed as she tried to put out the flames but her wild spinning only pushed her further towards the danger and as I watched in silent horror she became a flailing silhouette as the flames encased her body. I don't know how long it was before she fell to the ground, the flames almost immediately subsiding as a canon fired around the room. There was a stunned silence and then people began to turn to Emporio and Velvet, solemnly congratulating them in listless voices. I suspected the end of a Games was always like this, but I could tell from the look of pain in even Hazel's eyes that this end had been particularly brutal. The mentors trailed out of the room in tense silence and no one made eye contact with me.

When I was left alone in the room, staring at the screens which now only showed the profile of the boy from One, the Victor, I tried to tell myself that this was one year down. I hated this, every minute of it, but I could do it.

* * *

I was sure that the one advantage of not having a Victor would be less time in the Capitol. My tributes were dead, I thought that would be the end of it for another year and I could just return to District 2 and no one would bother me. By now I really should have known better than to hope for that.

Every time the new Victor had an event to attend I found a rose on my doorstep. Every single one I crushed in my fist and threw away before Clove could see them. I didn't want her to ever work out what they meant and she wasn't a naive little girl any more, she was starting to notice things.

Just like mine the end of Gloss' Victory Tour resulted in a ball which all previous Victor's were invited to. I was starting to see a pattern though in those that 'chose' to attend. Hazel was there, every time, as were Finnick Odair, Hyde from District 10, Brutus and several others- all the recent Victors, the ones that were still young and pretty and sober or relatively so. It was when I returned from this ball, weary and bitter, that Clove first raised her concerns.

"You're never home anymore," she commented that evening as we both picked moodily at our food. I could tell from her voice and the way she kept her eyes firmly on her plate that her casualness and indifference were forced. "You're always in the Capitol instead."

I let a moments silence stretch between us before I answered her. It was difficult to know how to respond. On one hand I couldn't let her know what it was really like, the real reason I went to the Capitol. I didn't know how Clove would react to that news. She might feel afraid, afraid that they threatened her life, but I knew she'd also feel angry and, just like me, she wasn't predictable or rational when she was angry. But then on the other hand I hated it too much to lie and tell her it was fun and exciting in the Capitol. So instead I went for vagueness.

"I'm a Victor now, Clove. There are...duties that come with that."

"Tell them you can't go. Tell them you don't want to..." she trailed off and then swiped a section of hair from her eyes before looking hesitantly up at me. "...unless you do want to go?" she continued, then spoke in a flustered rush. "I mean, it's boring here and the Capitol would be better I get that but-" she stopped, watching me closely, waiting for me to tell her she was wrong.

I looked down at my plate and viciously stabbed a piece of vegetable with my knife. "It's not better than here, Clove," I said as blandly as I could, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. If only she knew how much better District 2 was than anything in the Capitol. We might be poor and cruel and powerless but at least we weren't the Capitol. I would rather our life any day than anything the Capitol could offer me, I just didn't know how to explain that to her.

"Right," she said in a disheartened voice as if she didn't believe me. Before I could speak again she had dropped her own knife onto her plate with a loud crash. "I liked it better when you weren't a Victor," she said simply before sliding from her seat and trudging from the room. Sighing I picked up our plates, both pretty much uneaten, and dumped them in the sink.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you everyone who has been reviewing this story. It's great to know there are so many people out there enjoying it. -Lu**


	11. Chapter 11

The girl for the 69th Games gave me hope. She was tall and strong and I liked her defiant attitude. She gave everyone- tributes, mentors, Capitol, sponsors- a cool, superior look with her pale blue eyes and for some reason they all loved it. The thing I liked most about her was that it wasn't an act. She hated them all as much as I did. Her name was Demetria and she was terrifying with any weapon, though she favoured a sleek black mace that was among the weapons that year. Brutus' tribute was a surprisingly skinny boy named Alec, though any doubt about his strength was immediately refuted the minute you saw him handling a spear. Between the two of them I would have placed my money on Demetria but it was anyone's game that year. The Career pack was strong, both the District 1 tributes were powerful and beautiful. The girl, Cashmere, received special attention because she was Gloss' sister, which made me dislike her immediately.

The Arena horrified me the minute it appeared on screen and my gasp of shock was echoed around the Control Room. My first thought was that it was dark, impossibly dark, and then as if on cue huge torches flared up around the podiums and revealed the darkened, claustrophobic cave system. Terror was reflected on every tributes face, even the Careers looked daunted. The rocks were rough, jagged and threw menacing shadows around the caves from the huge flames which were the only source of light. The result was that the entire Games were a chaos of flickering shadows and screaming, agonizing burning deaths. The bloodbath lived up to its name more than most with the unforgiving rocks of the Arena causing havoc.

Alec made it to 5th, when he was taken down by the first wave of mutts of the Games. Even Brutus looked horrified when the plate size tarantulas descended from the walls of the caves and swarmed the boy where he slept. I found myself hoping that the poison from the dozens of bites numbed him before their teeth tore him to pieces in a thousand little bites.

Demetria killed five tributes with her mace and she was the favourite right up until the end. The mysterious dark shadows and amber flames accented her mahogany hair and caramel skin and stalking through the shadows she looked like some kind of fire demon. I genuinely thought she'd win until the girl from One, Cashmere, brought her down in a surprising move with her sword in the final battle. I set my eyes on the screen and grit my teeth as Cashmere claimed her victory and the flames soared around her. One more reason to hate District One.

* * *

The exuberance of the Capitol was even more insufferable than normal that year. They had been overjoyed when they had the beautiful Gloss as a Victor, and now in their minds they had a matching set with Cashmere. They were quite similar, the same shiny golden hair and pale, porcelain skin. Gloss had deep blue eyes while Cashmere's were lighter, verging on green sometimes I thought, and they reminded me of something, though I hadn't been able to place it the entire Games.

I couldn't stand the sight of the two of them practically inseparable despite the adoring Capitol crowds desperately trying to tear them apart. At the Victory Ball I watched silently from across the room as Gloss refused to let his sister more than a few feet from him, and considering he'd had to mentor her through the Games, I couldn't say I blamed him.

Slightly desperately I threw a look around the room, catching sight of Finnick, Hazel and Hyde among the crowds, all three of them captured in conversation with a fan. Hazel was the only one to meet my eyes over the shoulder of the small Capitol man she was talking to and she gave me a fleeting smile which I didn't return. With a sigh I turned my back on the three colourful people I saw heading in my direction and I slipped from the room, finding myself before long out on a balcony with the cool evening air whispering around me. Exhaling deeply I leant against the railing, closing my eyes and trying to rid myself of the bitter feeling which had risen up as I'd watched Gloss and Cashmere.

"Hello," said a soft voice interrupting my thoughts. I jumped, looking around me but I was alone on the balcony, despite the shadows. "Down here," the voice said and I spun back to the railing, following the voice's command and glancing down at the ground. A little girl was tucked against the base of the railing, looking as if she were trying her best to be invisible in the shadows, despite the gleaming white dress she wore that made her look a little like a ghost. I didn't return her greeting and we stared at each other in mutual surprise for a few moments until she unfolded herself and climbed to her feet. She only came up to about my waist and I felt a twinge of pain, she was almost exactly the same height as Clove and she looked about the same age. She had dark purple ringlets that hugged her small heart shaped face and I couldn't make out the colour of her eyes in the gloom.

She held out a hand to me in what looked like a practiced manner. "Hello," she repeated in the clipped accent of the Capitol elite. "I'm Magnolia." I stared at her hand and refused to accept it. If she had been older I probably would have out of fear of reprisals but I doubted very much a child could cause me much harm. She looked like she couldn't hurt a butterfly. There was something infinitely soft edged about her. She glanced worriedly up at me as I didn't move and then her hand dropped, fluttering restlessly in the folds of her white dress. "I know who you are," she said after a tense pause. "You're Enobaria. I watched your Games two years ago. It was the first one grandfather let me watch in the Mansion."

This seemingly irrelevant information was typical of the Capitol. Why did they think I cared? But for some reason I found it hard to be completely rude to this child, she just had an air about her that screamed fragility and whilst I'd normally detest that I found myself almost wanting to protect her. So I raised an eyebrow and leant back against the railing, crossing my arms and scrutinising her. "Did you like my Games, little girl?" I asked in the closest I think I could get to a friendly tone. Despite practically raising one I had no experience with children. I treated Clove like an adult and she behaved like one, neither of us had time or energy for anything else.

Magnolia gave a nervous little nod, a small, polite smile flickering over her lips. "I did but...I had nightmares about you for ages," she admitted earnestly.

Unable to stop myself I gave a little laugh at this information. I quite liked the idea that the children of the Capitol had nightmares about me. Considering the things that haunted the dreams of the children from the districts I thought it was the least I could do to restore some balance. I gave her a smile that showed my teeth. "Do you still have nightmares about me, Magnolia?"

She hesitated but then shook her head. "Grandfather says it's foolish to be scared of the Victors, that they can't really hurt me." My smile dropped at her words and I felt anger settling over me again. It was the Capitol arrogance that I hated most, the conviction that they had us in their control. What I hated most was that they were right.

"What does your grandfather know about any of it?" I snapped, losing my composure. Magnolia fluttered, taking a small step backwards, but she didn't run like I expected her to and she held my gaze.

"He knows everything about everything," she said and I swore there was almost a dejected tone to her voice. I looked at her more closely, trying to decide who this mysterious child could be. There were never children at the Capitol parties, teenagers sometimes, but never children. It raised the question too, why had she been hiding out here on the balcony when she surely should have been in the middle of the party indoors. I had just opened my mouth to ask her that very question when the slow eerie creak of the balcony door opening made us both look around.

President Snow stood silhouetted in the doorway, his beard shining silver at the edges with the interior light. I couldn't read his expression with the light behind him but my heart fluttered nervously. I jumped as something brushed my leg and glanced down in alarm, only to see that Magnolia had taken a step backwards and collided lightly with me.

"Magnolia what are you doing hiding out here?" the President said in a cold voice that wasn't at all designed for a child. I looked between the little girl in her white dress and the President and suddenly knew why her grandfather knew everything about everything. I swallowed and looked up again to see that the President's gaze was directed towards me. I ducked my head, gritting my teeth in anger as I did so. I heard his footsteps on the tiles as he walked towards us and felt a little shiver run through my body and realised that it wasn't mine, but Magnolia's.

"Ms. Reyes," he said in the same tone he'd used for Magnolia. "What a surprise to find you keeping company with a child. Perhaps it reminds you of home." The sharp message to his words wasn't even subtle and I bit my tongue to hold back the furious reply I desperately wanted to give him. I gave a little shake of my head and subtly looked up to meet his eyes. I knew he would see the anger burning there but he just gave a little satisfied smile, as if the knowledge of my anger was as pleasing as my submission.

His arm snapped out from his body and he grasped Magnolia's little hand in his, pulling her away from me. She stumbled slightly but followed him obediently. At the door she threw me a glance over her shoulder. "Bye Enobaria," she said without smiling.

"Bye Magnolia," I replied automatically, feeling a surprising twinge of pity for the girl. It couldn't be much of a life having that man for a grandfather. As I watched her silvery white dress disappear into the room I decided that perhaps there wasn't as much freedom in the Capitol as I'd previously thought. Raven had been a perfect example of that. You didn't need to live in the poorest section of District 12 to know what oppression was.

* * *

The 70th Hunger Games couldn't have been more different. The dark caves were replaced with a beautiful, fresh river system surrounded by delicate beech forest. The Cornucopia, and the careers base, was set high on a dam that looked out over the Arena.

Brutus' tribute Theron was an arrogant boy who no one much liked. He and Brutus spent most of the days prior to the Games shouting at each other and I was ready to stab both of them by the time the Games began. Nysa was equally contemptuous of her District partner and tended to scowl at him and stalk off to her room where she did Panem knew what. She was a quiet one and she didn't want much to do with anyone. As best I could I gave her advice on her threats, not that there were many that year. Both the optional Career tributes from Four had been reaped and looked useless. Even District 1 weren't strikingly threatening. I thought for sure that one of ours would be coming home that year but almost at the end the Game Makers send an earthquake into the Arena.

It was down to 6 tributes when it struck- both from 1 and 2, the girl from 4 and the boy from 7. Hazel and I had shared a few glances at each other across the Control Room, equally surprised that one of hers was left. For the first time that year the brother and sister duo of Cashmere and Gloss were mentoring District 1 and combined with Finnick Odair for District 4 and Hyde from District 10, it resulted in a Control Room packed with recent Victors, each with our own Victories still fresh in our minds as we watched the ground shake in the Arena. Finnick, especially, was not handling his mentoring role well this year and we watched in confusion as he leapt from his seat and threw himself at one of the screens, shouting something at his tribute. After that the room was filled with shouting mentors as confusion swept through the Arena and the Capitol. The screens were suddenly filled with water and half of the cameras went black, sending panic through some of the mentors. Brutus and I watched in frozen silence as our tributes heads broke the surface of the water that had flooded the Arena and then turned away when another wave pushed them back down and they didn't resurface. I left the room after that, not even sure which position our tributes had come as the entire Career pack was wiped out in minutes. No one had ever expected the fragile little girl from District 4 to win. It wasn't until I was resentfully standing once again in the ballroom for the Victor's ceremony, and watching Finnick talk quietly to the clearly unstable Victor, Annie, that I suddenly remembered his words from a few years ago. _She reminds me of someone back home_. Watching them I suddenly knew without a doubt that this was the girl that Raven had reminded him of. The thought brought up a sharp twinge of guilt as I thought of the magenta haired Capitol girl who I had heard nothing of since I had basically sentenced her to death. I left the Victor's party very early that year, though no one was in a particularly celebratory mood.

* * *

When I returned home from the Capitol that year I forced Clove to learn to swim. She wasn't happy about it but I didn't give her a choice. Watching my two tributes drown on the screen I realised that it was probably the one skill we didn't teach in District 2. There were no pools, no rivers, and only one lake formed from an old unused quarry. Nobody bothered with swimming much for survival and no one had time for fun. It was in this man-made lake that I forced Clove to learn.

The water was a milky beige colour from the clay soil of the quarry and we stood on the edge of the water and stared at it apprehensively. I had learnt to keep myself afloat in this lake when I had been at the Training Centre. It wasn't standard but I'd overheard two of the older students talking about it one day and when I'd mentioned it to Domitius he'd encouraged me. So I'd come out here on my own and paddled into the water and then made myself let go of the bottom until I could stay up without sinking. I remember being terrified the first time I sunk below the surface of the water, and I could see that apprehension in Clove's eyes, but I thought better here than in an Arena where there was no one to save you.

The only way to get her to go into the water was to go in with her, so I waded up to my waist and looked back at her expectantly. Grumbling the entire time she followed me in a little way and gingerly let go of the bottom. She sank like a stone and then spluttered to the surface, scrabbling to find the ground again with her feet. At first I tried to help her but then I realised that perhaps being forced to do it on her own would be more effective. Of course I wouldn't let her drown but I waded to the edge of the water and watched her try and stay afloat. She managed to eventually, though she was never going to be able to swim. It was enough. If she found herself somewhere with water at least she'd know how to stay alive long enough to figure out plan B. When I went back into the water and rescued her, dragging her to the shore and flopping down onto the hard ground she was furious, cursing and hissing at me like a cat. She looked like one too, one that had been dumped in a lake. Her hair clung in dark tendrils t her face and neck and eyes were burning angry black in her pale face.

"It's for your own good," I reminded her curtly, ignoring the furious looks I was getting.

"How would you know?" she retorted angrily before storming away, refusing to talk to me the entire walk back to town. She crashed through the forest ahead of me, ruthlessly flattening bushes and saplings out of her way.

* * *

**A/N: Hint hint, the subject of my next big work is introduced in this chapter...but we've still got Enobaria's story to tell first...**


	12. Chapter 12

Tobias and Milena could have been twins they looked so similar. The prep teams for the 71st Games were ecstatic with their matching beauty; dark, serious eyes and striking, coal black hair against flawless porcelain skin. Brutus and I weren't interested in their beauty but we had to admit that it would work in their favour. This year we had two tributes who were equally charming as they were deadly, and that was rare. Tobias favoured the traditional broadsword and even though Brutus tried to convince him to use a second weapon he refused. He had no doubts that it would be he who claimed the famous weapon. Milena was a little more subtle, preferring instead a bow and arrow, with a good array of knives for backup. They worked well as a team, covering each other's backs, and it was clear to see they had been training together for years. Brutus and I watched with interest and a growing sense of trepidation as we realised they could well be the last two in the Arena. I had not yet had to watch one of my tributes kill their district partner.

The Arena was simple compared to recent years, an unremarkable cleared area surrounded on three sides by thick pine forest. At the sight of the Arena everyone looked automatically to the District 7 tributes, but they were both nothing special. The boy looked like he could be strong but then he was killed almost immediately in the bloodbath. The girl I had noticed from the parades, only because she was even more pathetic than usual; small and skinny with a tangled mess of dark hair and a constant stream of tears running down her cheeks. After the bloodbath was over I found myself standing next to Hazel. "I'm amazed your girl got out of that one," I commented, though not cruelly. Hazel had looked as surprised as anyone when the tiny girl had taken off in the opposite direction to the bloodbath and disappeared seamlessly into the trees. Not even the cameras could find her for a long time. Hazel didn't reply to my comment but there was something in her expression which made me curious. She was guarded, but she looked perhaps just a little hopeful.

Her response didn't make sense until the final day when every single mentor in the Control Room got the fright of their lives. Both Tobias and Milena were still going strong and they had methodically eliminated all but their fellow Careers from 1 and 4, the boys from 8 and 12 and the girl from 7 who was still hiding superbly in the trees. The Career Pack had agreed not to split until after the others were dead but as we watched it was clear things were getting dangerous. Tobias and the boy from One were fighting almost constantly and had already come to blows a few times. It was no surprise when this escalated into a full out battle, Milena and Tobias as usual fighting back to back against the two from One. The boy from Four killed his district partner without hesitating and then launched himself on the girl from One while she fought Milena. No one, tributes, mentors and Capitol alike, had expected it when their ferocious fighting was interrupted by a small figure wielding an axe. We all watched in awe struck horror as the girl who had spent the entire games hiding, alternating between crying and trembling, suddenly struck down three Careers with her axe in ten minutes. No one could believe her ability as she withdrew her axe from the boy from Four's head. It was only then that we realised the deaths of the boys from 8 and 12 must have been her doing. The cameras had been too focused on the Careers to show us. I looked from the screen to Hazel and she had a quietly triumphant look on her face. She had known all along that this girl was capable of murder, I was sure of it. When she caught me looking she returned my look with blankness and a small smile. Our tributes were pitted against each other now and I was sure that my two strong, trained tributes could take down her tiny one, even with her ability with an axe. I was wrong.

She killed Tobias first, thudding her axe into the base of his throat and almost beheading him. It was a brutal death and I watched his body fall to the ground and thought that his beauty meant nothing now. Milena's death was equally horrific, though slower. The girl caught her on the chest with a blow but Milena managed to get away. Brutus and I watched holding our breath as she stumbled through the trees. Her knives were gone and her bow and arrow were no use against her pursuer. Eventually she collapsed to the ground too and Brutus walked from the room. I waited until the girl from Seven had delivered the final blow before I followed him, throwing Hazel one quick nod of acknowledgement.

At the Victory party a few days later I was skulking in the back of the room when Hazel and her tribute walked up to me. I eyed them suspiciously but just like Hazel her tribute seemed undaunted by me.

"Milena was good," the girl said as a greeting. I think it was supposed to be an apology but I ignored it and looked to Hazel.

"Don't be too cold, Two," Hazel teased. "Johanna will be mentoring alongside you soon. You might want to get used to her now."

I tried to hide my surprise, though it was unusual for the mentoring to be already planned. I wondered why in particular Hazel was so keen to be rid of her mentoring duties that she would pass them onto the other girl before she'd barely even left the Arena. To be honest I was a little disappointed. Hazel was one of the few Victors who I could stand to be around. We understood each other I think, and I appreciated her no nonsense attitude. The prospect of having to mentor alongside her manipulative, quick tongued tribute instead was not appealing, though in reality she was strikingly similar to Hazel. "I'll do my best," I said sarcastically before pushing the small Victor aside and stalking across the room.

* * *

Dayanara caught my attention on reaping day for the 72nd Games before she even volunteered. Blonde hair was unusual enough in District 2 that those with it normally stood out, but I don't think I'd ever seen anyone with hair as pale as hers before. In the sunshine it almost looked white but up close it became clear it was a fine, extreme pale blonde. Perhaps she had become used to people staring at her because she had one of the most aggressive attitudes I'd ever seen in a tribute. She wasn't arrogant though, just quietly confidant and I immediately had a good feeling about her.

Brirus was the opposite, loud, arrogant and surprisingly not particularly talented. Listening to the general talk among the mentors and watching the reactions from the Capitol I wondered just what the selection committee had seen in him. He could wield an axe and a sword well enough but he lacked the fine skill our tributes normally had. I could tell Brutus thought so too because he refused to talk to the boy, seemingly having given up on him from day one. He was an insufferably moody mentor and I couldn't say I was upset that he spent more time drinking in the bar than mentoring his tribute. Brirus was too arrogant to ask for help so I focused on Dayanara. The first thing she had done upon arrival on the train after the reaping had been to march up to me, look me dead in the eye and order me that if I called her anything other than Dayna even once she would throw me off the train, she didn't care how famous I was. I liked her immediately.

Her biggest rival that year was the boy from District 11, surprisingly enough. He was huge and spent every minute before the Games glaring furiously at everyone. I told Dayna to stay out of his way as much as possible and hope that one of the other Career boys would take him out. Unlike some of her previous tributes she actually listened to me, turning over my advice with a quietly thoughtful expression. I had a feeling though that she only took my advice if she agreed with it anyway. We had very similar survival strategies her and I, though we decided early on that she wouldn't reject the Career pack, though she was tempted. Unusually for a District 2 tribute she decided to underplay her strengths in training. She was small and on the train she'd announced that she was going to trick them, save her skill for the main event. I didn't see anything particularly wrong with this plan so I let her. The other Careers, her district partner included, were all so arrogant that they probably wouldn't think to question it. It would be their fatal mistake.

I'd never seen an Arena like Dayna's before. It was the first one in my memory to be completely a manmade environment. The abandoned city at first looked quite easy, harmless almost in the soft blue light that was cast over it, but as the Games got underway it became evident it was anything but. Most of the tributes took to the taller buildings, hoping to lose their enemies in the winding corridors. The buildings weren't safe though. It was a good decision, to not reject the Career pack because they were often the ones doing the pursuing, and so it was their prey that fell into the traps of crumbling buildings, unsupported floors that gave way beneath them and sent them tumbling to their deaths. One structure caved in on top of three hiding tributes and wiped them all out easily. Although it was tense in the Control Room I think it would have been a relatively boring game for the Capitol audience. Too many tributes died of things other than each other. Dayna only made two kills, both in the bloodbath, and her fellow Careers weren't much better.

In the end id did come down to Dayna and the boy from 11. I tried not to hope too much, as I had with Demetria, that Dayna would succeed and I might finally be able to bring a tribute back to District 2. For the first time in the Games Dayna found herself being the prey as she madly dashed from floor to floor in one of the taller buildings. I watched with a growing sense of dread because there was only one path for her- up. She was fast on her feet though, and her lightness made it easier for her to scale unstable sections of the building. She made it to the roof long before her pursuer and immediately set about surveying her surroundings. I could almost read the thoughts flashing across her eyes as she spun around, assessing her advantages and disadvantages. This was where Career training meant the difference between life and death. Dayna would be able to see every hint of danger on that roof, every simple item or space she could use to her advantage. Nothing in that environment was passive to her, it was either a threat or a weapon.

I watched from the back of the room, hovering near the door in case I needed to leave, as they fought. The Control Room was full even though it was down to the final two. Everyone wanted to see how this match played out; the enormous and terrifying boy from Eleven wielding a machete, and the relatively tiny but wickedly devious girl from Two who held a short sword in each hand and danced on her feet a she waited for the boy to attack.

In the silence of the room we could hear the Capitol crowds outside calling for blood and their favourites. No such thing occurred in the Control Room. Even if our tributes were pitted against each other and district hated district, no one ever called for the blood of another. We all knew how it was to be in that Arena. The room was silent as the clang of the weapons and ragged breathing rang from the screen. After only a few minutes fighting I thought for sure that Dayna was gone. She was on the defensive, unable even with her skill to counter the boy's brute strength with his weapon. It wasn't until she spun around behind a vent that I realised her plan all along. She'd deliberately been on the defensive, leading him backwards towards an unstable section of the roof. Too caught up in the fight the boy hadn't even realised until Dayna had leapt with grace across a beam and landed on the far side. She crouched like a cat on the narrow piece of wood and watched the boy come towards her. She'd dropped her weapons and I could see on the boys face that he thought she was helpless now. She watched silently and still as he stepped out onto the section of floor and we all watched, Chaff with his head in his hands, as the boys face showed his realisation too late. He fell Panem knows how many floors, crashing through levels and scaffolding. It took me until Brutus was slapping me on the back to realise that finally we'd done it. My first Victor.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you've all seen the new trailer for Catching Fire. How fierce was Ena with her little hiss?! I'm so excited, why can't it be November already?**

**I have been a very busy little writer the last week, writing the entire Quarter Quell for the third installment of this story and I can't wait to get to it, though there's lots to go through in the mean time. I know it might seem a little slow with each of these Games at the moment, but each is important to get through before we get to the dreaded 74th. **

**Thank you lovely readers and reviews. I love you all to Panem and back.**

**-Lu**


	13. Chapter 13

I was able to pay more attention to the other districts on Dayna's Victory Tour than I did on my own. It was better, watching from the shadows of the side of the stage instead of being forced to stand in the centre and bear the full force of the district's hate. Not that it had particularly bothered me, but it had felt very exposed and vulnerable on that stage. Dayna didn't seem to mind though. She glared at everyone just as she always had.

Our second night in District 4 I couldn't sleep, which really wasn't unusual. This night was different though. It wasn't nightmares that kept me awake. It was the knowledge that the following morning would mark Clove's first day at Senior Training, and that I could not be there. It was one more step away, putting distance between us that no matter how hard I tried when I returned home, I never seemed to be able to reduce.

Long before the first rays of light began to streak the sky I walked quietly from the room I had been given and slipped through the darkened hallways of the District 4 Justice Building. All the buildings here were very different to anything at home. There were no severe stone walls and tiny windows. It was as if the people of the district wanted to let as much of the outside world in as possible. It seemed there were more windows than walls on most of the buildings, and as I walked down one of the corridors a gentle, salt scented breeze drifted through half a dozen open ones. Finding an open door I padded outside and found myself on the side of the Justice Building directly opposite the Square, and also directly facing a long stretch of sandy beach. Gentle, ankle height waves lapped at the edges and across the water twin full, silver moons hovered, one rippling with the surface of the water.

I took a step forwards, mesmerised by the sight of the wide expanse of water that stretched all the way to the horizon, and found myself submerged in sand. Everything was bathed in shades of blue. The water looked like a solid expanse of midnight indigo ink, the sky only a shade lighter, and the sand pale dusky cobalt bathed by the moonlight. Slowly I began to walk towards the water, but stopped a few feet from it. I could swim, and I had swum in the quarry lake at home, but the sight of so much water made my heart flutter a little nervously. How did they know what creatures lurked in that inky darkness?

I took a seat on the dry sand, staring transfixed by the rhythmic lapping of the waves and tracing the moon's path across the sky towards the horizon. It was strange to think beauty like this existed in other districts. We were renowned for being the favourites of the Capitol, the most privileged, and yet I could never associate District 2 with either typical beauty or freedom. I had seen the misty, rolling pine forested hills of District 7 twice now, the rippling golden fields of District 9, even the neat, polished little houses and boutique factories of District 1 were beautiful in their own way.

Our scrubby pine forest and rocky, unforgiving landscape held a special beauty to me, because they had always symbolised escape and liberty away from the dangers of other people, but I don't think they could ever have been called beautiful. There was an oppressive, grey, worn down feel to everything in District 2, despite our privilege. Perhaps that lack of beauty came from the people themselves. I considered how the inhabitants of District 4 seemed to embrace the world around them; turning their faces to the sky and trailing their fingers through the water as if it were for the sheer pleasure of it. I tried to image people from my home having a similar joy in simply being alive. It would definitely not be found among the poor, desperate quarry workers who struggled from meal to meal. But it wouldn't be found among the more prosperous fighting classes either, I didn't think. We were either driven to kill too much to appreciate life, or we were battling with the things we had done to ensure life. Either way we were doomed, heads down, gazes fixed firmly on the prize whether it was achievable or not. We were stubborn, vicious, determined...but we were not beautiful.

My train of thought was interrupted by a skittering sound and a moment later a cascade of sand trickled around my fingers. I spun around in alarm, half jumping to my feet, realising too late that someone had snuck up on me while I had been lost in my thoughts,

Finnick Odair held his hands up sheepishly and gave a very unapologetic grin. "Sorry," he said, his eyes not matching his easy smile as they flickered over me sharply. There was a reason he had been the youngest Victor in living memory, though it was hard to picture the 22 year old man before me now as the 16 year old I head first met in the Capitol. He had only grown more handsome with age, and more conceited I suspected. My suspicion seemed proved as he lowered his hands, clearly deciding me non-threatening and walking casually towards me, dropping to the sand beside where I had been sitting. He glanced up at me where I still stood, my muscles tensed, and he patted the sand next to him with a grin. He laughed as I hissed at him but I retook my seat, drawing my knees up to myself and looping my arms around them protectively. He lounged in the sand, looking perfectly at home which, I had to remind myself, he was. It was like seeing a beautiful, wild animal in its natural habitat. I didn't think I would look like that anywhere.

"Can't sleep?" he asked after a pause where we both stared out at the twin moons. I gave a little shrug of my shoulders, the most answer I was going to give him on the matter, which he seemed to accept. For half a second I wondered what it would be like to tell someone about the reason I could not sleep, not the nightmares, but single thought that had been repeating in my mind since the previous evening. Was Clove nervous? I couldn't help but remember her first day at junior training and how I had walked her there, her stony silence that had told me how scared she was. She wasn't that same little six year old anymore though. A lot had changed, and I realised I didn't even know how this new, strong, twelve year old girl would feel. She'd be glad to be in the same place as Cato at last, that much I did know. Come dawn she would be putting on my old training outfit and looking at herself in the mirror in our parent's room and I wondered what she would be thinking. Once upon a time I would have known. She would have been thinking that she looked just like me and she would have been happy about it. Now though, I didn't think so.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Finnick once again broke into my thoughts and I glanced sideways at him. To my horror he was watching me intently and I tried to gauge how well I had kept the previous train of thoughts from my expression.

"I do when there's someone worth talking to," I retorted, hoping to distract him from his study with my usual snap. Just like when he had first met though he gave a casual laugh that told me he wasn't one bit scared of me. We hadn't talked at all since my first year as Victor, though we had both annually shared the Control Room as mentors. His gaze had always slid over me in a way that told me he still blamed me for whatever had happened to Raven. That was why it surprised me now that he had chosen to sit next to me as I watched the waves, and what's more apparently wanted to have a friendly conversation. I was instantly wary. "Why are you here, Odair?" I asked bluntly, not taking my eyes from him for a moment.

He picked up a handful of sand and let the fine grains fall through his fingers, drifting back to the beach to form a small pyramid. As if he was following my train of thought he spoke. "I thought it was about time we talked about Raven," he said without looking at me.

My shoulders stiffened as he spoke her name and I set my eyes firmly on the solid moon. "There's nothing to talk about. She's dead. You blame me." It was my fault, I stopped myself from adding.

He gave a little cough as if he were clearing his throat. "That's the thing, Reyes," he said, taking my cue and using my last name. "I don't think she is dead. Not yet, anyway." I couldn't stop myself from looking sharply at him, to gauge the sincerity behind his words. He looked serious, lines suddenly etched into his young face as he stared grimly at the sea. "How much do you know?" he asked.

The openness of the question left me stunned for a few moments. How much did I know? About what? About Raven? The Capitol in general? I had not been told very much at all, and all I did have came from a less than trustworthy source. "Ramona told me that something had happened to Raven because...because of what I did. She said 'she hoped she was dead'."

Finnick actually flinched at my words but then he had pulled back on his composure as easily as all the Victors could. We were masters in hiding our true thoughts and feelings from the world. "That may be the wisest thing your mentor ever said," he replied eventually in a quiet voice. When he finally looked at me I was surprised by the lack of accusation there. Raven had been his friend, I thought he hated me for her fate. "But she's wrong too," he continued. "They used it as an excuse but what happened to Raven was not your fault, not really. They were looking for a reason and they would have made it some other way if you hadn't killed that man."

Involuntarily I let air hiss between my teeth at the memory of the man I had killed, not because of his death, but because of the events surrounding it. I had blocked the memory of that night and the many that followed it from my memory. When I had managed to push the thoughts away I focused on Finnick again. "Do you know what happened to her?" I asked plainly.

He paused, his fingers twirling in the sand. "There are bigger things at work here, Reyes," he said carefully as if he was contemplating the danger of each word before he spoke it. "Raven is a pawn in their game, just as you and I are."

"Raven was the Capitol," I replied in confusion. He spoke as if Raven were like us, the powerless, fragile people of the districts. She had wealth, and value, and security...well, at least until she had been taken. Following that train of thought I realised that perhaps simply being Capitol wasn't enough.

"Her mother was from District 4," Finnick replied, his tone firmer as if he knew this was information he did not have to worry about revealing to me. "Syrena. She was a friend of my mother's, long before either Raven or I were born.

Raven's father fell in love with her when he was posted as a Capitol official here." His expression darkened. "Of course, that's not how the Capitol presented it. Syrena was executed, a few months after Raven was born, for seducing a Capitol official."

A sharp inhale of salty air stabbed at my lungs and I found myself staring wide eyed and transfixed at Finnick. He glanced up, seeing my expression and quickly shook his head. "Oh of course that wasn't official. Not even the charge of seduction would stand up in the Capitol's petty legal system. But the President does not need the law to rule this country." Finnick gave a bitter laugh. "Ironically the man who annually slays 23 children found something quite repulsive about eliminating baby Raven too, perhaps it was because even if seawater flowed through her veins she was still half Capitol."

He stared glumly at the edge of the water for a long time and I wondered if he was going to continue. "So she was taken because of her mother?" I guessed, trying to figure out how this little story Finnick was telling me fitted into what I knew. There must be a reason he was telling me.

He shook his head and then with effort dragged his eyes from the water back to me. "No. Her father had been charged with treason during the 66th Hunger Games. He..." Finnick paused, his eyes narrowing upon me. Determined to know, I stared him down, challenging him to dare deny me. Eventually he continued, though his tone had returned to that of carefully measured words. "He knew many things, her father, things that the Capitol wanted to know. Bathias was a very determined man, I doubt the Capitol could have shaken his secrets from him. He believed in his cause, but as I'm sure you know our dear President is very skilled at using those we love against us." Finnick's face darkened and suddenly he looked murderous. If I hadn't been so startled at his comment, and instantly panicking that somehow he was referring to Clove, I would have been curious about who had inspired such an extreme reaction from him. With effort he controlled his anger, though he scrunched his hands in the sand as if he wished it were the President's throat. "Raven was the only thing that could have broken Bathias, I'm sure. And the President knew that."

"What secrets would a man like that have?" I pursued as he paused.

He glanced at me briefly and then seemed to think better of it. In one swift movement he rose to his feet, sending sand cascading down upon me. "Do you fight for the Capitol, Enobaria?" he asked instead of answering. "Do you fight for the districts? Or do you fight for something else?"

His questions were cryptic, but I already knew my answer. I looked up at him, holding his gaze coldly. "I fight for myself," I replied firmly. _And Clove_, said the voice in my head.

He gave a small nod as if that was exactly the answer he had been expecting and began to turn away, pausing and glancing back at me. "Some secrets need to be kept," he said, just as cryptic as before. Then he glanced at the horizon. "Enjoy the dawn. It's beautiful from this beach." And with that he was gone, sending small cascades of sand behind him as he padded nimbly across the beach away from me back towards the Justice Building.

I glanced back at my twin moons to see that both had vanished while we talked, and instead streaks of orange- golden fire and candy pink were chasing away the darkness.

* * *

_Syrena means enchanter, based off the word siren, the mermaids who would lure sailors to their deaths._

* * *

**A/N:**_  
_

**Sergio: I'm so glad you're enjoying the story to follow it all this way! That encourages me so much!**

**Snitchstar: Annie and Johanna are also some of my favourite characters and it's fun to take all the characters Katniss sees and put Enobaria's twist on them. It speaks to my inner judgemental bitch I think. :p**

**Chelsea Hunger Games Fan: For some reason I always imagined Enobaria to be small and deadly. Not sure why. As for her teeth, I like how they look in the movie even if they terrify me. They're different to how I imagined them (obviously, as I wrote them differently) but that's more I think because I considered it too impractical to have all her teeth pointed. I simply don't know how she would eat. **

**Melliemoo: Yay for a Victor indeed! Johanna is so kickass. She's one of my favourites because she's not afraid to call Katniss on her shit.**

**K: Thank you so much for the kind review! Thoughtful comments like that really mean a lot to me.**


	14. Chapter 14

There was nothing particularly capturing about the 73rd Hunger Games themselves. The Arena was a desert, which I had not seen in many years. Aldora, an intimidating brunette girl with the rough hands of one with quarry worker origins, was the seventh tribute to die of dehydration in the bleached Arena, despite Brutus and I attempting to send her a parachute of water. As it floated down to her, delayed by Capitol paperwork, she was too weak to collect it and her canon fired a few hours later, the water still sitting only half a dozen feet from her. Nicandro was able to collect his parachutes that we sent to him on the other side of the Arena and he lasted three days after his district partner had died in 4th position. It looked as if once again the final battle would come down to District 1 and District 2 as Nicandro and the District 1 male, Gilt, were the only two left roaming the Arena on the eighteenth day of the competition. Brutus and I had steeled ourselves for the tense moment of a sword fight, a fight that never came. On his way to Gilt, Nicandro was attacked by venomous snakes, mutts whose eyes glowed ruby red. Undoubtedly the Game Makers were cursing their own mutations as Nicandro died relatively boringly, and left a surprised Gilt to claim victory without any thrilling, bloody battle.

No, the Games themselves were uneventful. The same mentors, the same process as every other year that left me bored, frustrated and exhausted. The morning of the Victory Ball I had found myself in the exercise room used by the Victors, studiously throwing knives into one corner while Hazel and Cashmere talked quietly in the background.

"Would you two mind shutting up?" I demanded eventually, after one knife had gone spinning wildly off target. I rounded on them, hands on my hips, and glared hard at the two women who only looked coolly back at me. They were not friends, so I had no idea what they could have found to murmur about on the other side of the room.

"I was just congratulating Cashmere on her tribute's Victory," Hazel replied casually, leaning against a pile of mats.

"That's wonderful, Seven," I snapped, and pointed towards the door. "Perhaps you two could do it outside?"

She chuckled slightly and I ground my teeth. "Don't worry, _Two_," she said, mimicking my cold use of her district number. "Next year you'll be able to take all your anger out on another mentor. Johanna will be joining you."

"What? Do you want a fond farewell?" I replied, bending down and picking up my knives, sliding them into my sheaths. My concentration was well and truly broken and resentfully I realised my training was over for the day. As I did, I contemplated her words. As much as Hazel could annoy me I had a feeling Johanna would be ten times worse, and I wasn't enthralled with the idea of being stuck in the Control Room with her for several weeks every year.

"They're letting you leave?" asked Cashmere, somewhat jealously. I recognised my own envy in her voice, envious that the Capitol appeared to be releasing its hold on another Victor. Cashmere at least knew she didn't have a choice. She was still the youngest female Victor from District 1. I, on the other hand, had still battled with the district officials before the Games as to why Dayna couldn't take over mentoring duties. I had received the same, bland, evasive answers as before, and the same simple red rose too.

I pulled my attention back to the pair as Hazel replied, pushing herself away from the mats and stretching out her arms above her head. She looked like she was trying too hard to be offhand about something. "I've got more useful things to do with my time," she replied, throwing Cashmere a forced smile.

"Such as?" I asked intently, stepping towards them, my attention now captured. With the clang of metal on metal I slid my last knife into its sheath. "You have trees which require your charming personality and witty comebacks?" I asked sarcastically.

She grinned. "I think it helps them grow just that little bit taller, you know?" Then the smile faded and she suddenly looked more serious than she had even in the Control Room. "No. I've got some people to see, places to go." She closed her mouth and stared at me in a way that told me she wasn't going to elaborate on it at all. Cashmere raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows and gave a little sulky huff.

"Well, that sounds...fun," she said, inspecting her nails. "Hyde _will_ be jealous of these people you're seeing," she added with a wicked smile and a special emphasis on her words that revealed she suspected Hazel's true intentions were less than honourable.

Hazel shot her a vicious look. "Hyde will just have to get over it, won't he?" she spat, though her eyes flickered when she said his name.

I watched them closely through this little conversation, trying to figure out the real meaning behind Hazel's seemingly coded message. It reminded me of a conversation I had had with another Victor not even a year ago. Finnick had sounded equally evasive and mysterious when he had talked about 'Capitol secrets'.

"Where are you really going, Hazel?" I asked, interrupting what looked like was about to turn into an aggressive argument between her and Cashmere. They both paused and looked at me. Hazel looked guarded, and her eyes slid sideways in a gesture I instantly recognised as her deciding the best way to lie.

She was saved from making that decision by the sound of the training room door opening and all three of our heads turned in unison to see Hyde standing sheepishly in the doorway.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," he called across the room, his eyes fixed on Hazel. "I heard you were leaving tonight...could I have a word with you?"

Cashmere gave a triumphant snort and began to sway across the room towards the door. She brushed her manicured fingers down Hyde's tanned arm and he glanced down at her. "Don't worry Hyde," she half-whispered loudly so we could all hear her. "I'll still be here next year."

"I look forward to it Cash," he said dismissively and she gave a small giggle that told us she really wasn't fazed by his rejection and swished passed him out the door.

"Come along, Enobaria," she called in a fake motherly voice. "Let us leave these two to their little 'chat'."

I stayed firmly where I was just to show that I was determined not to ever once allow Cashmere Valenti to tell me what to do. I fiddled with one of my knives, pretending to pack them all away, and threw a glance at Hazel. To my surprise she actually returned it almost pleadingly, as if she didn't want us to leave her alone to talk to Hyde. Perhaps she just didn't like good-byes. It was obvious to any of the mentors, even a drunkard such as Haymitch, that Hazel and Hyde had been skipping around each other ever since they'd both become mentors. Being caught between the two of them in a conversation, with Hyde's determined charm on one side and Hazel's equally determined dismissal on the other, was quite unbearable and no matter how much I was willing to tolerate Hazel the tension in the room as Hyde's golden eyes bored into me was already too much. I threw him a fierce look as I walked over to where Cashmere still held the door open for me and he returned it equally fiercely.

* * *

The Victory Ball was as enjoyable as usual, which was not at all. I barely talked to anyone all night, too lost in my own thoughts, and for once I actually got away with lurking in a corner. For once too I found myself without company. I couldn't help but contrast it to my first Capitol party, when I had sought company with Ramona, and Raven had joined us, followed closely by Finnick, with a smiling Hazel fluttering in and out. Now there was no Ramona, I hadn't heard of her in several years now, definitely no Raven I reminded myself with a sinking heart, Finnick spent the night across the room talking deeply with a bearded Capitol man, and Hazel had already left. Despite my disinterest in the company of all of them, I for some reason found myself feeling lonely as I left the party early, slinking around the edge of the room.

Tomorrow I would be returning to District 2 and as usual I found myself counting down the minutes till I could leave the Capitol.

As I was walking back through the marbled hallway of the tribute tower, heading straight for the elevators and trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, I heard a familiar voice call out my name. It wasn't a Capitol accent, and it wasn't another District accent. It could only have been an accent from home that convinced me to pause and turn to face Brutus as he waved me across to him. I glared at him and he grunted, pointing into the room to which he held open the door.

"You might want to see this," he said simply, and the look in his eyes made my feet move forwards towards him. Something nervous began to flutter in my stomach but I pushed it aside. Brutus always looked grumpy and fierce, and he was almost definitely drunk, so there was no reason to fear the grim expression on his face.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned as I slipped through the door to see Beetee, Finnick and Mags all on my heels, no doubt drawn by Brutus' shout as well. For a second I met Finnick's eyes but he looked as confused as I was, and then I turned and disappeared into the room.

It was a bar. Of course. Not one of the painfully sleek, emotionless Capitol bars, but one more suited to the tribute towers. It wasn't commercial, that much was obvious, and was probably built purely for the likes of Haymitch, Chaff and Brutus I suspected as I looked at the three of them lined up with several others at a long bench, glasses before them. The rest of the room was quite dark, with couches and tables scattered around. Six years and I had actually never been in here. It looked like a place designed for mentors to socialise, and that was not something I had any inclination to do.

It was a wide television screen which caught my attention as I stepped further into the room, hearing the murmured voices of the others behind me. I slid onto a stool beside Brutus and leant my elbows on the solid wooden bench, following his and everyone else's gazes to the screen.

A train carriage lay on its side next to some train tracks and smoke poured from one end. The surrounding scene was bathed in darkness, telling me it was live, and was lit up eerily by massive floodlights placed around the scene. Another carriage rested on its side some distance away, a huge blackened hole ripped through the middle, and three more carriages and an engine sat still on the tracks. Dozens of people in bright coloured clothing like I had never seen before frantically scurried around the carriages, looking like bright ants from that distance. Then the image flickered and changed to something closer, and there was a collective gasp from the room as the true damage to one of the carriages was revealed. Blackened from fire that had obviously sped its way through the previously ornate carriage the interior was almost unrecognisable.

"Where is it?" I whispered to Brutus, my eyes fixed firmly to the screen where more orange clad people were climbing tentatively into the blackened carriage.

Before he could answer the image changed again and gave me my answer, panning out to reveal dark pine trees creeping almost to the edge of the tracks.

"Oh no," I heard a female voice behind me mutter but I didn't turn around. I had seen those pine trees on my Victory Tour. It wasn't far from District 2, in fact we shared a border, even if only a short one.

"District 7," I stated blankly, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing. It was slowly clicking into place when a Capitol news reader appeared on the screen, standing some distance from the fallen carriage and looked far too excited for the disaster around her.

"The Fetchers have confirmed that there were at least eight people in the carriage where the explosion took place," she squeaked.

"Explosion?" said Finnick's incredulous voice as he sat down heavily on my other side, his expression looking as shocked as I was at the word. Of course accidents happened in Panem. But it was usually an explosion in a coal mine in District 12, or a rock fall in our district. This train represented the Capitol, and it would have carried several Capitol citizens, and an accident occurring in Capitol jurisdiction was unheard of.

"The President has called for calm in a statement that declared that the source of the fault will be traced and those responsible for this tragic event will be held accountable."

There was a murmur from the other end of the bar and I looked across at where the two District 6 mentors were shaking their heads angrily at the screen. Transportation. They had already worked out that whether it was their fault or not, their district would be held responsible for the disaster.

"It has been confirmed that three Capitol officials and two Capitol traders are among the suspected dead; Juniper Honeyman, Citron Elphinstone..." I tuned out the presenters annoying voice and her list of Capitol people who meant nothing to me. There was a quiet murmuring from the mentors in the room as they processed the information, and there were a few uneasy looks being thrown. I glanced around, confused as to the sense of restlessness in the bar.

"What's-?" I began, leaning slightly towards Brutus but was cut off by the presenters next words, which she said with a dutiful tone.

"District 7 citizens among the missing include Jelena Kiefer, Linden Hollis and Hazel Florentine."

I felt something heavy settle over me and the instant hush that fell across the room only intensified that feeling. My fingers clutched at the side of the bar as photos flashed up on the screen, dispelling any hope I had that I had somehow misheard.

I heard a deep groan from beside me and spurred myself into movement to look across at Finnick who had placed his head on the surface of the bar. "...they just said missing..." I murmured hopefully, looking back at the screen.

He gave a bitter laugh and gave me a scathing look that was actually harsher than I had ever seen from him. "Oh don't be naive," he said darkly. I felt my anger flare at his tone and as always the anger was preferable to the fear and uncertainty and I let it take over.

"Don't you dare-" I began but was stopped as a stern hand was placed on my shoulder. I shot Brutus a vicious look but he was undaunted by my anger.

"Show some respect you two," he said in a gruff voice, nodding his head behind him. Finnick and I followed his gaze to where Hyde sat still staring at the screen, looking as if he were made of stone. Chaff placed a hand on his arm, attempting to offer some comfort I suppose, but he didn't seem to notice at all. Then all of a sudden he just shook it off and rose to his feet in one movement, his chair falling behind him with a loud crash that silenced the room. Without meeting a single eye upon him he stormed from the room, the door slamming shut behind him and leaving us all in numb, stunned silence.

After a few moments people began to stir. Mags shuffled up and muttered something in Finnick's ear and he nodded glumly. Chaff settled back into his seat between Haymitch and Brutus and poured himself another, larger drink. Elsewhere in the room people began to rise to their feet, whispering to each other in hushed voices, and slowly began to trickle towards the door. The celebratory mood of the Games being over for another year had been reduced to a mourning silence in minutes. I continued to stare at the screen for a few more moments until Finnick's movement beside me stirred me from my reverie. He shot a dark look at the screen as he rose.

"What a coincidence," he muttered darkly in a voice that made it clear he thought the accident was no coincidence at all. I stared at him, trying to decode the cryptic message behind his words but just coming up completely confused. He ignored my intense look and turned his back, allowing Mags' grip on his sleeve to tug him from the room.

After the door closed behind him I rose too, turning to head for the door. "See you on the train, Reyes," Brutus muttered, tossing me a weary look. I gave him a quick nod and walked quickly from the room, glad that I saw no one else as I made my way back to the District 2 suite. It was always so quiet the night after a Victory, except for the year that Dayna had won of course. The rooms that had once held two tributes, two mentors and an escort now seemed to hold only me. I positioned myself in the darkness of the main room, perching on a windowsill overlooking the city.

I refused to let myself feel sad as I watched the colourful lights blur, but I recognised this feeling. It was the same as when Domitius had informed me of Tacita's death. It seemed so completely unjust that someone who had fought so hard to stay alive, should then have that taken away from them again so soon. Maybe Finnick was right. I was naive if I thought this world had any respect for what was just and fair.

* * *

_Nicandro means victor or victorious._

_Aldora means winged gift_

_Jelena means fir tree in Croatian_

_Kiefer means pine tree in German_

_Linden derived from lime trees in German and English_

* * *

**_A/N: Man I really hate killing off characters. You create them, build them, nurture them...and then kill them mercilessly and cruelly. Every death just leaves me more and more mystified as to how Suzanne Collins could kill of certain characters...(you all know who I mean).  
_**

**_Anyway, we're through the semi-filler Games now, into the real (heartbreaking) business!_**

**_Also, Guest, I'm sorry, but this is all completely canon. But believe me, sometimes I wished it wasn't._**

**_Please remember to leave me comments, advice, anything really. It really helps. _**

**_- Lu_**


	15. Chapter 15

Reaping Day for the 74th Hunger Games was unbearably hot. It reminded me of my own, a day when I had been standing sweltering with heat and anticipation in the crowd below. Once again I found myself on the steps of the Justice Building, trying to pretend I was anywhere but there as the Capitol officials filed onto the stage. Domitius was standing to my right and I glanced across at him once, still curious as to why he was mentoring. He was glaring out at the crowd looking absolutely furious.

For a brief second I closed my eyes against the glare of the sun and when I opened them again the escort was standing in the middle of the stage, her hands hovering over the bowl full of girl's names. I tuned out, bored and tired by the mundane routine. She would call a name, the fake tribute would walk to the middle of the aisle and then-

"I volunteer!" The cry came up and the familiarity of the voice brought my attention snapping back. The sun blinded my vision as my eyes scanned the crowd frantically. My mind was imagining things because I couldn't know that voice. She could not be walking out of the fifteen year old section at this very moment, walking towards the stage, walking closer to me with every step.

"No. No, no, no," I didn't even realise I was repeating the word over and over again under my breath as I watched with numb horror as Clove walked confidently up the steps of the stage. There was a loud buzzing in my head which eventually I realised was a murmur going up from the crowd, spreading through the lines as everyone suddenly focused on what was happening. Even the escort looked surprised as Clove walked up next to her, and hesitated a moment before asking her her name. I watched her mouth open to speak her name and without thinking I went to take a step forward. I had to stop her from speaking, she couldn't volunteer. How could they have let her get this far? Where was the real volunteer?

Talon like fingers dug into my arm, wrenching me backwards as I went to walk forwards. I spun, furiously trying to dislodge myself and was met with Domitius' steely eyes looking down at me. "Don't," he said simply, his voice low and quiet but full of warning. I stared at him in horror for a moment, my mind not processing what was happening, then tried to shake him off again, half spinning back to the stage. He yanked at me again, spinning me to face him so I couldn't see Clove at all. "You can't change it, Rabbit," he said in the same tone and I swore there was almost pity in his eyes.

My mouth opened to argue, to order him to release me, but then I heard the escort's voice fill my head instead as she spoke brightly into the microphone. "Clove Reyes, our tribute for the 74th Hunger Games!"

This had to be a dream, a nightmare. Clove couldn't volunteer for the Hunger Games, she was fifteen years old. It had been shock enough when I volunteered at seventeen, but fifteen?! No. It couldn't happen. This had to be a trick or something, something the Capitol had concocted to torment me-

The thought slowly sunk in as I stared numbly at Domitius, not even seeing him. The Capitol. The President. Oh Panem, they'd done this. This was my fault. Somehow they'd made Clove volunteer to punish me. They were going to put her in that Arena and it was all my fault.

"She can't-" I began weakly, turning my head to look at the crowd, at Clove standing with her back to me on one side of the escort. Without me noticing Domitius had dragged us both into the half shadows of the side of the stage.

"She already has," he stated firmly, shaking me slightly where he still gripped me by the arms. This seemed to break the haze because it was suddenly as if someone had turned up the volume switch and the lights and everything sped back into focus. I felt the heat of the sun on me again and tuned in just in time to hear another cry of volunteer from the crowd. Still trapped by Domitius I watched frozen as a tall blonde boy marched out from the eighteen year old section, just as familiar as Clove. Cato. What were they doing?

Smirking, he strode to the stage, towering over both the escort and Clove when he was standing next to them. Still too shocked to move, my eyes roamed the lines of faces in the crowd until I met familiar blue eyes. Amica stared back at me perfectly blankly, her two remaining sons standing either side of her. Aron looked murderous, his arms crossed over his chest, and Taras wasn't even looking at his brother up on the stage. He was staring furiously at the ground.

My focus on them was broken as a round of steady but unenthusiastic applause erupted from the crowd. I blinked, trying to think, desperately trying to think what I could do. There had to be a mistake, or it was a trick. Either way I could fix this, surely? Clove couldn't volunteer for tribute. She was only fifteen years old.

I turned back to Domitius, the thought lighting me up with hope. "She can't volunteer. She's fifteen. Someone tell her she can't volunteer. They won't let her." I was clinging desperately to this thought. I didn't know how she had managed to get up to that stage without anyone stopping her, or why the real volunteer hadn't opposed her, but this would all be fixed when they realised she couldn't volunteer.

Domitius looked at me grimly and then glanced over my head at the crowd which was starting to disperse. The escort led the two new tributes from the stage and as they passed I threw a frantic look at them. Clove kept her eyes firmly to the front as if she didn't even know I was there. She didn't look scared though. She looked as she had as a child- absolutely determined and willing to do anything to get what she wanted.

"Clove!" I called out, my voice hoarse, barely audible above the murmur of the crowd. I opened my mouth to call again, desperate to get her attention but before I could speak Domitius pulled me to the side of the stage and through a door. It shut behind him and I found myself in a narrow corridor of the Justice Building.

"What are you doing?" I rounded on him, determined to get back onto the stage. I needed to see her, talk to her, tell her she didn't have to fight.

"She volunteered, Enobaria," he said simply, barring my exit. Desperately I gave him a shove though it barely made an impact on him.

"I know! That's the problem! She can't volunteer, she's fifteen years old! The Capitol...they've, they've done this, somehow. It's because I killed him and they've-"

"Clove nominated herself for volunteer," he interrupted me, apparently oblivious to what I was saying though it can't have made much sense to him. I stared at him in confusion. "She put her name to the Committee and they chose her as tribute. She was the best, even though she's fifteen."

Shaking my head I took a step backwards. "No. They wouldn't allow it. Not someone so young. How can she possibly be skilled enough to compare to the eighteen year olds? She's tiny!"

He fixed me with a stern look. "You should know that size has no impact on strength. As for skill, I do believe you were the one who's been teaching her knife skills since she was a child. She came to the Training Centre with the skills of a senior student. Now she's better than the eighteen year olds. Simple as that."

Unable to speak I just stared at him, frozen with horror at his words. He was right. She had been trained since she was a child, since she was eight in fact. But I didn't know she was that good. I felt my heart flutter, twinging with pain. That was because I didn't know anything anymore. I suddenly realised I had no idea about her, about my own sister. That girl I'd seen staring determinedly ahead as she walked off stage, she wasn't the little sister I'd known. Somewhere in the last six years I'd lost her and I hadn't even noticed. What I thought was just distance between us had been a lot more. I had thought that as soon as the Capitol released its grip on me and I could stay in District 2 everything would go back to how it had been. But in the mean time Clove had grown up, and I had absolutely no idea what sort of person she had grown up into.

Eventually I found my voice though it sounded strange in my ears; strained and panicky. "You knew?" I demanded, realising that Domitius had known she would volunteer for weeks. How could he not tell me? How could Clove not tell me? He inclined his head minimally, still keeping his eyes intently on me. I got the feeling he was waiting for me to break down, or attack him. "You knew," I repeated to myself. "Did you vote for her? Did you think she could handle herself in that Arena against a bunch of eighteen year olds with swords? Did you think she could possibly be ready for the Games, or what winning even means? Or did you forget to tell her about those things, just like you forgot to tell me?" I was being cruel, vicious with my words because I knew I couldn't be vicious with my body. I wanted to tear someone apart, rip them up, make them bleed, make them hurt. Instead all I could do was scream at Domitius while hot tears threatened to tumble their way down my cheeks. I wouldn't let them though. I did not cry, no matter how utterly terrified I was right now that my sister was going to die. No.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath I drew back and turned away from him, unable to look at him. Facing the wall I kept inhaling, trying to stop my hands from shaking where I held them to my face.

"They cannot know that she is your sister. It will make her a target from the other districts wanting revenge on you, especially District 1. You have to keep it together or you won't be able to get her out of that Arena. She'll be relying on you, Enobaria, even if she doesn't realise it. You can keep her safe but you need to hold it together." I listened to him in silence, unmoving, expressionless. I shouldn't have to keep her safe, she shouldn't even be in the Games.

But she was. She was a tribute and she was going into the Arena and there was nothing I could do to prevent that. Once again I was powerless. Except Domitius was right, not completely powerless. I could get her out of there, alive. I had to. There was no other option.

Somewhere in my mind a little voice was saying that her survival would ensure Cato's death. Amica would lose another of her boys because of me, but I pushed the thought aside. I couldn't afford to consider anyone but Clove, no matter who they were. Those twenty three other tributes were going to die, they had to, because Clove was coming home again.

* * *

I wanted to talk to her but Domitius wouldn't let me. I was her mentor now, not her sister, and the time in the ridiculously decorated room was for family. My argument that she would have no one else to visit her didn't make an impact, and before I could process what was happening I found myself on the tribute train awaiting their arrival.

I'd always hated this train. It was too claustrophobic and it screamed of the Capitol. Domitius carefully lowered himself into one of the chairs of the dining carriage while I took to restlessly pacing the room. Three short strides from one window to the next while he watched me, only his eyes following my movements back and forth. I was trying to think, trying to order my racing thoughts into something useful. Everything I had learned since I was first on this train was racing through my mind and I tried to hold onto one of the thoughts, turning it over for its usefulness before discarding it again. Strategy, skill, charm, sponsors, resources, weapons- everything was flying through my brain at lightning speed but by the time we heard the voice of the escort announcing their arrival I still hadn't come up with anything I considered useful enough.

As soon as the door of the carriage slid open I ceased pacing, planting myself in one spot and glaring at the door. Domitius turned slowly in his chair to look at them too. The escort trotted in first, oblivious to the tense and frosty atmosphere of the carriage, and skittered over to the far side, tinkling drinks on a sideboard and chattering away to herself. Cato was the next to walk through the door and he sauntered in, ducking his head under the low doorway, without even looking at me. Suddenly I was reminded of the little boy who had galloped down the path after his brothers, sprawling in the dirt and then sulking away when they laughed at him. He wasn't even the same person as the arrogant young man before me now. He moved out of the doorway and I didn't give him a second thought as Clove's small figure appeared. She didn't look at me either, just followed behind Cato and took a seat next to him where he'd claimed room at the table. Domitius and I just stared at them in silence until eventually Domitius cleared his throat, breaking the tense moment.

"I don't think we need introductions then," he said dryly, looking from Cato to Clove and then to me. I was too busy glaring at Clove to reply. All I could see was the top of her dark head as she stared determinedly at the table surface, no doubt able to feel my eyes on her. Why couldn't she just look at me?

"We don't need mentors," Cato said simply leaning back in his chair. Of all of us he seemed the most at ease and in that moment I hated him. I was sure it was he who had convinced Clove to volunteer, convinced her that she was good enough to fight. He was arrogant and he was vicious but he was clearly caught up in the dream of the Games. He hadn't thought about the reality, neither of them had.

"You do realise that one of you is going to die?" I asked, my voice only just loud enough for them to hear me. They did though, for the first time they both looked at me. Cato looked stonily. He disliked me as much as I disliked him. Clove's eyes were quietly accusing, burning furiously. Where had that rage come from?

Domitius cleared his throat again, looking sternly at me. "This isn't productive-" he began.

"No," I interrupted him, surprised at my own behaviour. I held up my hand to silence him and walked forward, standing across the table from the two of them and glaring down. If he wanted me to be the mentor and not the sister then fine, I would. As a sister I would reassure them, tell them they would be alright, everything would work out, they could do it. But a mentor told their tribute the truth, especially a Career. There was nothing to be gained in avoiding the reality of the situation. "They need to realise that there can only be one survivor. There are two tributes in this room. So which one of you was planning to die?"

"Enobaria..." Domitius said in a warning voice but I turned to him, glaring him into silence.

"No!" I repeated, knowing everyone, even the escort was looking at me now. I spun back to face them and pointed at Cato. "You volunteered." I pointed at Clove, matching her hateful gaze. "And you volunteered. You both chose this knowing only one of you could live. So answer me. Which one of you was planning on dying in that Arena? Which one of you was willing to give up their life, their future, their family, for the _honour_ of the Hunger Games?"

In the heavy silence that followed all I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I glared at them, daring them to answer me. They had put themselves in this position and now they had to face the consequences. Eventually after a long pause Clove cleared her throat lightly.

"Me," she said simply, looking passed me and fixing on a point against the far wall. I stared at her, uncomprehending, seeing a stranger in front of me. "It was me," she repeated, continuing. "There's no life or future for me in District 2 without a Victor's title..." Suddenly she snapped her eyes to me and I was shocked by the coldness there. "...And I have no family."

I held her gaze for a moment that stretched forever. Every thought in my mind had suddenly frozen and all there was was a swirling darkness. I stared at her and felt like the very ground beneath my feet was falling away. Then suddenly, unable to take it anymore I spun, forcing my legs to move me away from them. The carriage door slammed behind me before I even contemplated leaving and I was storming down the narrow corridors of the train, running all the way to the last carriage before I threw myself out onto the little open deck there, feeling the wind and the darkness swirling around me before I finally allowed myself to fall apart.

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**A/N: Sorry it has been such a long time between updates, dear readers. I hope though that the emotionality of this chapter, and the promise of Clato and the much anticipated 74th Hunger Games, makes up for it. Please, please remember to leave me your thoughts and feedback in reviews, I love to hear your opinions! Much love. Lu.**


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